


blue like the sky

by Hazazel



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Kozume Kenma, Other, Trans Hinata Shouyou, Trans Male Character, kenhina soulmate au i've wanted to write for So Long omg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 43,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21514144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazazel/pseuds/Hazazel
Summary: After a pause the melody started again, and Kenma almost let themself shake their head along with the rhythm, when something hit their leg and noisily fell to the ground. They startled and opened their eyes -- without realising it, they’d stretched out their legs and a ginger boy had tripped on them. He looked at Kenma, eyes widening, his mouth open in a surprised “o”.“Kageyama, wait, I think someone can help me!” he almost shouted. And then, he said to Kenma, “Do you know where we are?”They didn’t answer -- although the boy hadn’t touched him there, their hand felt like it was on fire, and it could only mean one thing. The other hadn’t noticed yet but they were alone. No one else could have activated his soulmark.- Or, Karasuno never meets up with Nekoma AU, mix and match of what I enjoy in soulmates AU, and a lot of my university chattering
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kozume Kenma, mentioned bokuaka - Relationship, mentioned kagesuga, mentioned kiyoyachi - Relationship
Comments: 63
Kudos: 225
Collections: Haikyuu!! AU BigBang 2019





	1. that's how it starts, isn't it

**Author's Note:**

> heLLO  
> i first want to thank Jordy for being a good beta ! she encouraged me throughout the process ! i also want to thank Larissa for being such a cool artist and as soon as i have her links i'll put them here  
> huge shoutout to chels, for re reading it over one last time, and to the hq!! creator server for the encouragements !!!  
> this is a labour of love and it's been hard to push through sometimes, even though i've had this idea for actual years... please give me some love in return !!!

The university’s corridors seemed to stretch endlessly and Kenma almost regretted coming. Thankfully, those corridors were empty -- they really didn’t need someone to try and strike a conversation. Kuro would exit class in half an hour, and he better take them to the café for all the trouble they went through. Truth be told, they had been waiting for this since classes began a week ago, although time had flown too fast for them to have time to complain. A girl quickly walked past them, her blond hair a halo around her head, and Kenma lowered their eyes so their gazes wouldn’t cross, flattening themselves on the wall to let her pass by. She didn’t notice and still made a large detour to avoid them, which made them grimace. If they had to wait, they’d wait sitting down, they decided, before sinking to the ground.

98% of battery left, the little sign on their phone told them, and no new messages. Nothing too surprising. His DS only had 56% left though, after he played on it this morning in the hour between his design and computer programming classes. And once more during lunch break. Maybe they should try bringing a spare battery, just in case their DS decided to turn off unexpectedly and leave him all alone in the middle of a crowd. The thought made them shiver. Yes, they probably had one hiding somewhere in their dorm… Even though they were always careful, now that they’d thought about it, the idea of spending hours empty-handed filled them with dread.

Their breathing echoed loudly in the quiet corridor, so they looked in their bag for their earphones. They needed to calm down. They were in their second year of university, they should be able to handle spending half an hour in a corridor, for fuck’s sake. Earphones shielding them from the outside world, Kenma closed their eyes and tried to calm down before a crowd filled the corridor with their noise. Maybe they picked the wrong song for that, a catchy J-pop tune that reminded them of Love Live. They’d had trouble with the game at first, but once they got the hang of it they finished in no time. A sound effect they could only describe as “glittery” made them smile.

After a pause the melody started again, and Kenma almost let themself shake their head along with the rhythm, when something hit their leg and noisily fell to the ground. They startled and opened their eyes -- without realising it, they’d stretched out their legs and a ginger boy had tripped on them. He looked at Kenma, eyes widening, his mouth open in a surprised “o”.

“Kageyama, wait, I think someone can help me!” he almost shouted. And then, he said to Kenma, “Do you know where we are?”

They didn’t answer -- although the boy hadn’t touched him there, their hand felt like it was on fire, and it could only mean one thing. The other hadn’t noticed yet but they were alone. No one else could have activated his soulmark.

The boy didn’t stop speaking, a useless squabble with this Kageyama, while Kenma’s life flashed before their eyes. Maybe that was a little dramatic. Their hand stopped burning and they glanced at it, head empty of thoughts. Strange how life had its ways… If they hadn’t been waiting for Kuro, they probably would have never met this boy and never activated their soulmark. They would have wondered about it from time to time but eventually thought it was better like this.

Luck decided otherwise. Kenma didn’t know if they should laugh or cry. Was there still time to get up and leave, hoping to never meet the boy again? He was looking at them with eyes so filled with spark Kenma wondered why life decided to make them cross paths. He’s stopped talking and was now staring at them, head cocked to the side, waiting for an answer. Oh. Kenma hadn’t listened at all, whatever he said, and they couldn’t even remember his first question. They were definitely hopeless and their cheeks flamed with embarrassment. Words swarmed their throat, excuses and questions both, but they swallowed them down in favour of a barely audible “Sorry?”

“I was wondering if we were in the biology aisle!” the boy said excitedly. “I’m looking for someone. And then I saw your shoes! They’re so cool, right? I’d love to have the same, where did you buy them? Those are volleyball shoes, right? Do you play?”

“The classes are at the end of the corridor,” Kenma answered. “And those are just my shoes.”

Please, don’t let them talk anymore. The boy seemed to not have noticed anything and he leaned down to watch Kenma’s DS screen, tongue between his teeth like a child trying hard to concentrate. Maybe he’d think it was stupid to bring a DS in here, and he’d mock Kenma, but his eyes lit up when he recognised the character on the pause screen and Kenma’s breath stuttered. They forgot all about the soulmark, the ache in their legs where the boy had tripped on them, the cold of the floor underneath them and their uncomfortable position. All that mattered was the deep hazelnut eyes in front of them and the brief but intense joy on the other’s face.

The moment was over so quickly Kenma thought they’d made it up. The boy got back up with a large smile and started rambling about his own little sister who had the same game back home. Kenma felt a little irritated at being compared to a child but the stranger had no ill intentions and, truth be told, his sister sounded really cute. They wondered if she had the same orange hair as her brother and the same radiant smile. People usually did not smile at Kenma, they ignored them or talked to them in boring, serious voices. The boy didn’t seem to feel the waves of discomfort emanating from them and talked as naturally as if they’d always been friends, which was oddly reassuring.

“Do you mind if I wait with you? My friend should be here soon,” he said, interrupting his monologue in a breathless voice.

Kenma heard themself say they didn’t mind. They tried to look at the letters on their finger, a vibrant orange colour not too dissimilar from their own skin tone but unmistakably there, even in the poorly lit corridor. A passionate colour that made you want to dive into it and be swept away. The other was still talking about his friend, his classes, his club, too quickly for Kenma to follow even if they’d wanted to. Their head was spinning, this was all going too fast.

“By the way!” he suddenly said. “My name is-”

“Hinata Shouyou,” Kenma finished.

Once more Hinata looked breathless, eyes wide. Kenma raised his left hand to show him the small print on his index finger, and Hinata’s mouth opened with shock. He blinked several times, as if he couldn’t believe it, and then exclaimed “So that was it? I thought it was a bruise again!” before frantically rolling up his sleeve to take a closer look at his arm.

A pale blue, the words “Kozume Kenma” spread out on Hinata’s arm. He read them aloud, voice clouded with confusion, as if he had trouble realizing they were indeed here, before turning his gaze towards Kenma. They did not like direct eye contact, but when Hinata’s brown eyes met their golden ones, they were hypnotised by the emotions they could read there. Excitement, joy, a little fear as well, as if Hinata was apprehensive of their reaction.

Kenma lowered their eyes, dazed by this whirlwind of feelings, and looked closer at their name on Hinata’s arm. The soulmark was clearly there, in Kenma’s own messy scrawl. They grit their teeth, unsure of what to say.

“Oh no, please, don’t look sad,” Hinata immediately said when he saw Kenma’s face. “We could be friends!”

Friends. The word echoed in Kenma's brain and quieted a fear they couldn’t put words on -- the fear of having to reciprocate some stranger’s feelings, to live up to expectations so far removed from their own. They hadn’t asked for any of this, they’d never wished for a soulmate, but they remembered Kuro’s bitter tears and swallowed down their sense of dread. They would never do to someone what Akaashi had done to him.

“I… I don’t know,” they whispered.

“I mean, I know it’s really sudden!” Hinata smiled as if everything was fine as if there was no reason to worry. Kenma’s heart was beating fast. “I thought we could at least keep in touch? We’re soulmates, which means we’ll get along fine, right? But if you don’t wanna… I mean…”

His smile faded when faced with Kenma’s silence until it disappeared completely. A far off part of Kenma’s brain, that wasn’t busy scrutinising Hinata’s every word, dismayed at the loss -- this boy was the sun and they were terrified of burning their wings should they fly too close, but also equally afraid of never seeing him shine again.

Kenma thought to ask him why he thought someone as dazzling as him would want someone as plain as Kenma, but the soul marks were probably the only reason. At that thought, unease twisted their stomach and they had to blink away the fear of never being enough. However, a voice sounding suspiciously like Kuro told them they had nothing to lose, nothing to dread with someone who seemed that sweet. Maybe for once, they should go with the flow instead of remaining static. 

“We could. Um. Talk?” they answered, as Hinata’s smile came back full force. “I’ll give you my number.”

That would be better than the alternative because Kenma didn’t trust themselves to send the first text. Hinata quickly added the number to his contact list, still smiling widely. Kenma turned his eyes away, embarrassed -- did Hinata not realise how bright he shone ? Did he not realise his aura filled up the room ? Or was it only effective on Kenma?

“That’s amazing, thanks, Kozume!” he said and clapped his phone shut. “I’m sure things will go well.”

Kenma winced. Akaashi was the only one to call them that, and the name had taken a grating tone to his ears. “Call me Kenma,” they said. “I hate all this formal stuff…”

Hinata nodded enthusiastically, like this was a very important mission, and Kenma caught themselves smiling back. It was so easy to communicate with Hinata… they could get used to it.

“Oh, Kageyama got lost, the idiot,” Hinata laughed, looking at his phone. “He’s next to the library, I gotta go get him…” He got up -- when did he sit down next to Kenma? -- and clumsily bowed to them. “Happy to have met you! Goodbye!”

“Goodbye, Shouyou…” Kenma whispered, but when they raised their head, he was already long gone.

Soon, streams of students got out of their classrooms, but Kuro was easily noticeable. He was taller than most and his bedhead was legendary, which allowed Kenma to spot him easily and creep up to him.

“My my!” Kuro couldn’t keep from saying. “A feral kitten! It’s about time you came by, I’ve missed you since classes began!”

Kenma shrugged, eyes cast downwards to avoid looking at the crowd around them. Some of the students turned to look at them, but it was surely because they were in the way. They should move, quickly, but Kuro liked to “enjoy the moment”, which meant in a lot of cases that he walked very slowly and stopped for no apparent reason. Koutarou followed his lead with enthusiasm but Kenma wasn’t sure they got it. Maybe there was nothing to get, and they were thinking about things too hard.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Kuro booped their nose. “Let’s go to the café! I know that’s the only reason you came,” he joked.

Kenma’s hair fell on their face as they raised it, and they brushed it away -- immediately, Kuro’s eyes stared at his left hand. “Not now,” Kenma sighed. “Save that for when we’re sitting down.”

Kuro had trouble hiding his curiosity on the way to the café, and in spite of their attempts at not thinking about it, Kenma felt both of them only thought about the soulmark. Was it so visible ? Kenma thought about the people they knew, and how rare it was to meet your soulmate at only twenty. People already commented on his dyed hair, would this give them another reason to gossip ?

“Kenmaaaa ! You’re thinking too hard ! Relax !” 

They startled. They had reached the café but, lost in thought, Kenma hadn’t heard what Kuro said. He ordered their drinks while they sat down at a table. They remained in uneasy silence until Kuro got back with their drinks, lowering their gaze when his eyes looked for theirs.

“How was your day, Kenma?”

It was not the question they were expecting, and they grimaced. They felt ants crawling under their skin -- they would have liked it better if Kuro just asked what happened. They wanted to be done with it. It wasn’t that they wanted to stop thinking about Shouyou, they just wanted to do it alone, decide what they wanted to do without other people’s judgement. Kuro wasn’t like the others, they tried to remind themself, he was their childhood best friend and he always supported them. 

“We’re gonna start making our own websites,” they ended up answering. “Nothing much.”

“We started working on DNA!” Kuro said cheerfully. “I think the first exam will be on this, I’m excited!”

“Only a nerd would be happy about that,” Kenma muttered. “Koutarou would have cried.”

Kuro smiled like a cat under the sun, and took a sip of his latte. Kenma remained quiet, and Kuro eventually decided to continue their conversation.

“So?” he said. “How long did it take before you told them you’re not interested?”

Of course, Kuro wasn’t expecting them to have accepted a soulmate without a fight. They’d talked about it, in the wee hours of the night, and they’d spat out with a voice full of venom that they hated the word “destiny”, but it wasn’t like him to reinforce Kenma’s isolation. Kuro was usually the one telling them to go forward, towards others. They had realised pretty late how important that was for them, how it helped them be more confident and interact with the world. Maybe all his efforts had finally paid off since Kuro was wrong this time.

“His name is Hinata Shouyou. I gave him my number.”

Kuro’s mouth opened in surprise, which wasn’t unlike Shouyou’s own bewilderment, and Kenma barely hid a satisfied smile.

“Wow, I… wasn’t expecting that,” Kuro said. “I was thinking something along the lines of ‘I hid my hand and pretended nothing happened’, but I’m glad! I’m glad. I’m proud of you.”

Kenma was too, strangely enough. They were also exhausted, and the drink, though it was very sugary, didn’t help much. Kuro must have realized it as well, and his next question was voluntarily vague, so Kenma could decide their degree of involvement in the answer.

“How is he?”

“Ginger,” Kenma answered as if it explained everything. “He’s even more excitable than Koutarou.”

“Would you look at that,” Kuro smiled.

“Now leave me alone, I’ve socialised enough for the whole month.” Kenma said, and they started sipping their drink and browsing their phone.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in relative silence. Kenma ended up on their DS, finishing the level Shouyou had interrupted, while Kuro did his biochem homework. He did not ask more questions, though Kenma knew they would come when they’d both have time to think about it.

Kenma also saw through his nonchalant attitude -- and they knew that behind that satisfaction about them finally bursting out of their bubble, a mass of sad, angry feelings simmered. They knew Kuro so well -- and they knew themself too. Quite hard a challenge was ahead of them.


	2. and they were soulmates (oh my god they were soulmates)

Where on earth was Kageyama? Shouyou erred in the corridors for a good twenty minutes, sending him a stream of messages, but he couldn’t find him. Kageyama’s last message, _where are u ??? i’m at the library and i can’t see u_ , filled Shouyou with annoyance. _He_ was at the library, and he was obviously alone -- where was Kageyama when you needed him ?

Shouyou was pulled out of his thoughts by his phone ringing.

“Bakageyama !” he yelled without looking at the caller ID. “Where the fuck are you ?”

“Hinata ? It’s Yamaguchi,” a soft voice answered. “We have class in five minutes, did you forget ?”

Yamaguchi was an excellent friend, who cared about him, and who knew where he was. And who reminded him of his classes, which was very useful in the month or so it took for Shouyou to memorise his schedule. It filled him with gratitude.

“Ah, sorry, I’ll be there soon!”

He took the time to send a quick message to Kageyama, _i’m going 2 class, i’ll tell u abt it later_. He saw the answer arrive a few seconds later with a satisfied smile, _what??? did sth happen???_ , but he put his phone in his pocket without answering. That would teach him a lesson. And, even if he hadn’t been able to talk to Kageyama about it, Yamaguchi would probably have good advice… 

He couldn’t believe he’d just found his soulmate! How he was going to focus in class, he didn’t know. Maybe he couldn’t focus so much he’d missed Kageyama in front of the library… He would apologize later, for now, what mattered was arriving to his class on time. And possibly even pay attention. Yamaguchi would probably be disappointed if he couldn’t focus, and that would be even more effective than Kageyama’s furrowed brow.

Out of breath, Shouyou arrived to the room just before the teacher closed the door. He quickly saw Tsukishima’s golden hair and stiff posture, neck brace keeping him from relaxing, and -- ah, he was already sat besides Yamaguchi. No way to talk to him without Tsukishima overhearing, and Shouyou really didn’t want to face his cutting remarks right now. Shouyou sat on Yamaguchi’s other side, happy the seat was empty, and he took out his notebook and pens, waving at his friend and getting a smile in return. Then, the teacher started talking and he tried to follow along as best as he could.

His binder was a little too tight on him, after having run down the halls, and he felt the skin on his back prickle with sweat. Minutes passed by with unbearable slowness. Now that he had time to think, Shouyou couldn’t help his thoughts from whirling around in his brain. Kozume Kenma. What a pretty name… and what a pretty face, though he seemed a bit shy, or even drawn in. Had Shouyou scared him? No, probably not, he’d given Shouyou his number. That was for them to talk again, right? He sighed. How complicated life could get… 

Yamaguchi glanced at him worriedly, or maybe he didn’t like that Shouyou wasn’t taking notes. For once (ok, this time and others), he would have to copy his friend’s notes. It wasn’t his fault if he’d just experienced a life-changing event ! Honestly, it was a miracle he was even in class. He would have liked to stay with Kenma a little longer, but he wanted to give the other boy time to breathe.

Too bad he’d missed Kageyama… He could have talked to someone about it instead of waiting for the end of the class like a spring pressed down by an invisible force. An overexcited baby chick, as Tsukishima would say. Maybe that was what Kenma thought of him. Shouyou must not have looked his best. He’d never tried being good at something other than volleyball, and he wasn’t sure if it suited him.

Wilder and wilder thoughts swarmed his mind, and the hour was over, but not before he’d thought of dyeing his hair brown and a thousand other things. Tsukishima immediately turned to him, which looked extremely uncomfortable for him, looking furious.

“I know you’re hyperactive but that was clearly out of line.” Shouyou looked at him, not understanding. “Bouncing your leg for the whole class? Did you seriously not notice you were doing it ?”

“You also bit your finger really hard,” Yamaguchi said. “Are you ok ?”

“Yeah ?” Shouyou answered, surprised. “Just, uh, a little distracted. I’ll explain it to you on the way to the dorms.”

Yamaguchi said goodbye to Tsukishima, who was heading to PT, finished gathering his notes and left with Shouyou in direction of their building. For a little while, they were both quiet, and this time Shouyou caught himself humming rhythmically and tapping his fingers against his collarbone. He stopped abruptly in front of a bench shadowed by a large maple tree, and Yamaguchi sighed as they sit down.

“Wanna tell me about it?”

“It’s, uh,” Shouyou said. “It’d be easier to show you.”

Yamaguchi instantly looked worried, like Shouyou was about to tell him about a serious illness, but his eyes went wide as Hinata pushed his sleeve up. There, almost at the crook of the elbow, the words “Kozume Kenma” were still visible in a tiny sky blue scribble, and Yamaguchi rubbed at his thigh without thinking about it.

“I understand why you were distracted, now…” he smiled. “Did you just meet him?”

“Yeah! While I was looking for that idiot Kageyama, who got lost twice.”

“So he’s in our uni,” Yamaguchi guessed.

Shouyou hadn’t even thought about it. Was he only on campus for a friend? Did he live far away ? Would they be able to meet often ? What did he study, how old was he ?

“Ok, ok, you don’t know anything,” Yamaguchi said, correctly interpreting his disarray. “Any chance you’ll see him again?”

“Yeah, I got his number,” Shouyou said, but Yamaguchi did not look reassured by that. It dawned on Shouyou that maybe Kenma had given him a fake number. His stomach immediately sank, and he really regretted not having checked on the spot. He’d trusted Kenma blindly, so sure his soulmate would tell the truth, that he hadn’t thought about that possibility… “I’ll send him a text soon, so we can talk. That’s good, right?”

“I guess so,” Yamaguchi answered pensively. “You don’t really have another option here.”

“I’m glad I met him,” Shouyou said after a beat of silence. “He sounds cool, we could be friends !”

Yamaguchi immediately winced, hand gripping his thigh again, and it stopped Shouyou dead in his tracks.

“Did I say something I shouldn’t have ?”

“Hinata… he’s your soulmate,” Yamaguchi said softly. 

“I know ?” he said, puzzled. “We’re like. Made for each other I guess, if you wanna see it that way. It’ll be cool.”

Nodding, Yamaguchi didn’t add anything, and they got back up and walked in silence until the crossroads where their paths separated. Shouyou waved goodbye and hurried to his room, happy to throw his bag on the floor and collapse on his bed.

Yachi wasn’t back yet, which meant that he had the whole room to himself, but even the prospect of listening to his music on full blast didn’t distract him. He sent a quick text to Kageyama, but the answer wasn’t the one he hoped for ( _working w koushi and yachi, ttyl_ ), and he felt a twinge of jealousy. He too would have liked to work with his friends, but their schedules rarely matched, and they didn’t even study the same topics. While he studied sociology, Kageyama and Yachi had opted for graphic design. Suga-san helped them with his coding skills.

All in all, it meant Kageyama wouldn’t be free for awhile, delaying again the time they would be able to talk. Resigned to only talk to him either late in the night or the next morning, he opened his agenda and looked at the mountain of homework that had already piled up on him. One week into the semester and he was already in over his head… Working, however, proved to be impossible.

Even with a musical background of the catchiest J-pop he could imagine, it was impossible to focus on his stats assignment. His meeting with Kenma played on a loop inside his mind, already blurry from having been thought about repeatedly. Shouyou couldn’t linger on one moment specifically, his brain jumping from detail to detail without giving him the time to analyse them. Now all he remembered clearly was Kenma’s shyness, or even fear, that had almost prevented him from talking. How would Shouyou get past that? He knew some shy people, but he hadn’t had any problems befriending them. Yamaguchi was way less frightened than he first seemed, and Yachi almost organically became friends with him after he joined the men’s volleyball team.

Perhaps it was only a question of time. Kenma would relax eventually, like Kageyama had done, and all would be well. The lesson was hard-learned, but Shouyou had ended up understanding that not everyone would want to be friends with him, even if he acted nice, after some… questionable meetings in high school. 

Would Kenma even want to share his life with him ? What made him happy, what made him sad ? Maybe Shouyou was only an intruder in a well organised life, like… like Kageyama had been at first, for Suga-san. Shouyou remembered their first year of high school, and Suga-san clapping Kageyama’s back in encouragement only to jump backwards as soulmarks appeared on his neck and Kageyama’s cheek. Sugawara had ran away, Sawamura on his heels, leaving Kageyama alone in the middle of the court. Shouyou would always remember Kageyama’s eyes -- empty, looking at nothing, a hand coming up to caress the name that read “Sugawara Koushi” in a vibrant white.

“It’s ok,” he’d told Shouyou after practice. “If he doesn’t want me, I’ll quit.”

Things had thankfully not happened that way. “Quitting?” Suga-san had said after he’d come back, hellfire in his eyes. “That’s nonsense! You’re our best setter!” And just like that, Kageyama had found himself into a mismatched team of colourful individuals that all had each other’s back, and that was enough, for a while. Only for a while though…

Realising he’d been staring into space for a good twenty minutes, Shouyou sighed and put away his homework. He’d get no work done tonight. Instead, he pulled out his laptop from its bag and turned it on. Bokuto had sent him a link to the previous year’s inter-university matches and he wanted to see what kind of opponents he’d have to play against this year. The distraction was welcomed, and proved itself efficient. Two hours later, Shouyou was still deeply absorbed in watching a match against a particularly ruthless team, recognising some of the players from his volleyball magazines. An alarm suddenly rang, pulling him out of his trance. “Food!!!!”, said the phone screen, and once more Shouyou thanked Yachi for the idea of putting daily tasks reminders on his phone.

As he got out of his room and into the kitchen area, Shouyou wondered what kind of food Kenma ate. Was he a picky eater ? Would he like Shouyou’s favourite dishes ? Did he like to cook ? He wanted, desperately, to get to know Kenma better. He didn’t know why, maybe it was a soulmate thing, but he felt a pull like never before.

His phone rang suddenly, and Shouyou startled, as if caught red-handed thinking about Kenma again. Then, he remembered he didn’t have his phone number, and he relaxed a little. He unlocked his phone and read the message, which was from Yachi. She was telling him she would sleep at Kageyama’s dorm, which annoyed him a little. He wanted to talk to someone, dammit ! Shouyou poured the water into the rice cooker with more force than necessary and it splashed around, landing on the counter and wetting his hands.

Kenma’s mark was on his hand… he’d be forced to look at it often. Maybe he wouldn’t like it. Shouyou had heard of tattoo artists who specialised in soulmark cover-up, and he shivered thinking that one day, perhaps, Kenma would dislike him so much he’d go that far to ensure Shouyou was never a part of his life.

Still brooding over it, he waited for the rice to be done, cooking a rolled omelette and thinking with a pang of envy about his mother’s home cooked meals. She was the best cook he knew, and he missed eating her cuisine dearly. The dorm kitchen was well equipped, all things considered, but Shouyou never really found the motivation or the attention span to cook more than the most basic dishes.

The rice cooker sang its little song to indicate the rice was done, and Shouyou divided it in two equal portions, one for right now and one for a future meal. He went back to his room, intent on watching more volleyball matches until it was time to sleep.

Two hours passed in relative silence, punctuated by shouts of “Don’t mind, don’t mind !” and “One touch !”. Eventually, his phone rang to indicate it was time to sleep, but he felt as awake as he had been all afternoon. Debating on whether or not he should turn his computer off, Shouyou suddenly realised he hadn’t messaged Kenma. The idea that he could send a text and never even get an answer felt like a bucket of ice water had just been dropped on his shoulders. The room was now so quiet Shouyou could hear the sounds of the next door people dancing to some tune he didn’t recognise. 

What if Kenma really gave him a fake number… how would he react to that ? Would he feel angry or sad ? Would he find that justified? What if he was already dating someone ? Sawamura had been Suga-san’s boyfriend for two years before Suga-san met Kageyama, and they’d kept on dating regardless of the fact that Suga-san now had his soulmate, without pushing Kageyama away though. 

Reminiscing on his first year of high school, Shouyou turned off his laptop and changed into his pyjamas, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep right away. It was only (already) eleven, and he was not tired at all, his mind racing. What he needed in those occasions was to talk to someone, but Yachi wasn’t here and he wasn’t sure she’d have relevant advice. Kageyama and Suga-san however -- oh. He could definitely call them! Why hadn’t he thought of that earlier? Shouyou scrambled up to grab his phone, and he dialed Kageyama’s number. The phone rang three times before he picked up.

“Hgn, Hinata, what is it ?”

“Oh, you were asleep ? Sorry!” Shouyou practically shouted. “I have stuff to tell you !”

In the background, he could hear the tired voices of Yachi and Suga-san, and a rustle of sheets indicating they were all sitting up. “What’s happening?” Kageyama said in a sleepy voice.

“I…” Suddenly, Shouyou felt too shy to say it aloud. “I met my soulmate.” he whispered.

Immediately, he heard Yachi’s gasp. Kageyama must have put him on speaker. 

“Wow, Shouyou, that’s good news !” Suga-san said. “Where did you meet them ?”

“We bumped into each other while I was looking for Kageyama,” he explained, “His name is Kenma and he’s so cool !”

“How do you know that after meeting him only once, dumbass?!” Kageyama must have been frowning, because Shouyou could feel it in his voice.

“I just know, ok ? He gave me his number but I’m not sure right now is the time to send a text…”

“Hinata,” Suga-san said then, voice soft. “How are you feeling about all this ?”

For the first time, Shouyou paused, and allowed himself to think outside of the bubbling anxiety of a newly decided upon relationship. Truth be told, he felt… mentally exhausted, especially after spending all his afternoon and evening thinking about his encounter with Kenma. Did he really enjoy the idea of talking to Kenma more ? Would they actually become friends or would this be a relationship of convenience ?

“I think… I wanna know more about him. And see where that takes me,” he ended up responding. “You know I’m not the best at social stuff…”

“You’re the most idiotic person I know,” Kageyama deadpanned. “He’s gonna love you in three seconds stats.”

“What Kageyama is trying to say-” Suga-san had a smile in his voice, “is that you’re really friendly. Just act normal and everything will go well, ok ?”

“And if he’s mean ! Ah !” Yachi piped in. “We’ll protect you !”

Shouyou felt his heart melt, and tears peak out the corner of his eyes. “You guys are real friends, do you know that ?”

“Don’t cry, dumbass!” Kageyama yelled, a twinge of panic in his voice.

“I’m ok !” Shouyou spent a little more time on the phone, asking how their day went, before Yachi released a yawn so powerful she fell onto the mattress. “Ok, good night everyone,” he whispered, and he hung up.

He fell asleep almost instantly.

When Shouyou woke up to the sound of his second alarm, he felt groggy and disgruntled, without particularly remembering why. He got up from his bed, picked the blanket up from where it had fallen, and ate the leftover rice from the night before. He put his notebooks in his bag, as well as his computer, and then he remembered he had to get dressed. Sleepily walking to the bathroom, he took off his shirt and was suddenly faced with his reflection in the cabinet mirror. His eyes were a little crusty and he’d drooled in his sleep. He opened the cabinet to take his meds when his eyes fell on his arm.

Oh.

That was why. His soulmark was still a vibrant blue, and he felt the weight of adult life, of relationships, fall on his shoulders. Deciding he’d think about it later, Shouyou brushed his teeth, got dressed, and went out in the fresh April air to the humanities department. He had class with Tsukishima today, and he still resented him for being so snappy the day before.

Bundled up in hisGryffindor scarf, Shouyou got out of his dorm, said hello to his neighbour who was also going out, and they shared the elevator ride down to the lobby in comfortable silence. The wind swiped at his cheeks and Shouyou burrowed further into the scarf, regretting not having gloves. The sky was a pale blue, streaked with airplane trails, and he was looking at it so intently he almost bumped into someone.

“I’m so sorry!” he squeaked. The person he’d almost collided with was none other than Tsukishima, which made him instantly regret having apologised. “Oh, it’s you. I’m not late then.”

“Watch where you’re going.” Tsukishima said stiffly.

They walked in relative silence to their building, Shouyou looking everywhere but at the person next to him. That was when he spotted a familiar silhouette, two-toned hair and a red jacket. Kenma ! What was he doing here ? Was he a student at this university ? Without thinking about it too much, he started waving frantically, but Kenma either did not see or voluntarily ignored him. 

“Kenma !” he yelled. The tall figure next to him startled at the shout, and this time, Shouyou was sure Kenma was hiding behind his friend.

“They’re just shy!” the friend shouted back. “Don’t be a stranger!”

“Who’s that?” Tsukishima said a few moments later, when Shouyou was done catching up with him. Tsukishima walked incredibly fast for someone with a neck brace and a stick shoved up his bottom.

“Oh, nothing, they’re just a new friend.”

“Tsk, you’re really fucking excitable.” he said, and did not add anything.

So Kenma was shy… He, no, they, had cheeks as red as their jacket when he waved at them. Strangely enough, this filled Shouyou with hope. Maybe Kenma had been quiet because they were just as awkward as him ! And they’d been scared off by Shouyou’s energetic personality.

He remembered, as if it were yesterday, the first time he met Yamaguchi. They’d both enrolled for the boy’s volleyball club of their high school, and had bumped into each other on the way to the gym. Hinata had scrambled for footing, but Yamaguchi’s long limbs entangled with his and they fell on the ground, faces inches away, just like in a bad rom-com. And Yamaguchi had said, surprised, “Wow, you have freckles too!”

Shouyou hadn’t known what to answer at first. Yeah, he had some ? What was so special about it ? So in the end he just said, “You have more, though.” Yamaguchi’s face fell immediately, and he pushed Shouyou to the side, dusting off his uniform that was now all wrinkled. Shouyou knew he’d just say something that offended the other deeply, but he couldn’t put his finger on why, if it was his words, his tone, a mix of both.

Yamaguchi had opened up to him about it in their third year.

“I was bullied for them, you know ?” he said one day, when Shouyou made an offhand remark about how many freckles they both had now that the sun was out. “I… I really hated them.”

“Whaa ?” Shouyou had answered, “But that makes no sense !”

Once more Yamaguchi had winced, and Shouyou cursed himself for never knowing what was the right thing to say. He still didn’t know now, he mused as he followed Tsukishima into the classroom. He just hoped it wouldn’t backfire this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for reading this !! don't forget to leave kudos if you liked it, and why not even comment, let's be wild ^^


	3. hmm, got the right number there

Going to the dorms from the café takes only a few minutes, which Kenma was grateful for. They didn’t have a scarf and neither did Kuro, both of them were sniffling, and it had even started to rain slightly. Kuro walked them to their building, and said goodbye hastily, nose red, before hurrying to his room. Kenma pressed the elevator button and waited silently, still thinking about what had just happened. They checked their phone while they waited, and were relieved to see there were no texts from Shouyou. They wondered who he had told, how these people had reacted. They wondered what people would say if they learned who Kenma really was, flaws and convolutions included.

Without realising it, they’d made the trip to their room, and they knocked before slotting the key in the hole. It took only one turn to open, which meant Lev was in, unless he’d forgotten to lock like last time. But no, here he was, sprawled on the carpet, surrounded by notes and flashcards.

“Kenma !” he shouted when he saw them, “I need help !”

“No,” they replied curtly. “I will not spend half an hour explaining text commentary to you because I have no idea how to do one.”

“But Kenma!” he whined.

They pinched their nose in frustration, expecting another rant from the excitable boy, but nothing came. Worried about what that could mean, they raised an eyebrow, and dared to look at Lev’s face. His eyes were glued to their hand, and Kenma wondered if having a soulmark in a place as visible as their fingers was going to be a bother. They sighed, resigned to explain to him what was going on, but Lev spoke first.

“I wasn’t expecting you to find a soulmate so early,” he said in an almost mesmerised voice. “Are you even ok with having one ?”

Kenma didn’t want to answer that, in part because they didn’t know themselves, but also because they didn’t trust their immediate feeling of recoil enough to give it a voice. Were they ok with finding their soulmate ?

“Like,” Lev continued, “You never speak to anyone you don’t already know from high school… I assumed you just didn’t wanna make friends. So a soulmate must be very over the top for you, and completely out of your priorities.”

Kenma was left speechless. Lev just blurted out casually what had been bothering them ever since Shouyou stumbled upon them, as if it had been obvious to everyone but them.

“Also, like, since you don’t talk to people, how did you meet them ? Through your Playstation ?”

Nope, nevermind, Lev was still as dense. The comment at least managed to put a smile on their face, and they dropped their bag onto their bed. “I don’t really wanna talk about it,” they warned, “And I won’t help you with your English homework.”

“But Kenmaaa ! You speak English fluently ! That’s unfair !”

“I never said anything about speaking Russian, yet you also ask me for help on Russian essays… Make up your mind, Lev.”

“You never had to take Russian.” Lev said, voice gloomy. He turned back to his pile of notes and started muttering various English words with a thick Russian accent, which seemed to come out the more frustrated Lev got. Kenma listened to him for a few minutes, before dragging their feet to their table and getting out their computer to complete their essay.

Kenma remained focused on their homework until Lev’s empty stomach rumbled too loud to be ignored. They both took off to the dorm kitchen, Lev pondering on what to cook, but they ended up having their usual serving of cup ramen with a side of shredded carrots. Lev blabbered about nothing, as usual, and this sense of normalcy comforted Kenma a little. Their life would surely be turned upside-down… They’d have to tell their parents, Kuro’s parents were also high on the list, and… they’d have to tell their friends, who would probably react in ways that would make them uncomfortable. They fervently wished they could erase this mark on their fingers, to never look at it again, but when they remembered Kuro’s mark, they shivered and decided to stop thinking about it.

This night, Lev would sleep out at a friend’s dorm, which meant Kenma had the room to themself. They decided against playing more video games, and instead logged onto Discord, sifting through unread messages. They were only a part of two servers, and they were not nearly as active as they’d been in the beginning, which made catching up a lot easier. Tooru had posted a link to his newest tutorial, and Kenma marked it for later -- they didn’t feel like focusing on such a cheerful video right now.

They spent the next hour mindlessly chatting about various topics, and the comfort of anonymity behind a username was greatly relieving. On Discord, no one knew about Shouyou, no one would ask them questions about their personal life unless they decided to share. Kenma thought distantly about some of the people they knew online, who’d never found their soulmates and never worried about it, who felt better behind a screen than face to face. They thought of introducing Shouyou to Kuro, and having those incredibly separated parts of their life intermingle. 

Eventually, they shut their computer down, brushed their teeth, and changed into their pyjamas. These ones were a birthday gift from Kuro and were decorated with little cat heads and paw prints. Kenma always put them on when they needed comforting clothes. These pyjamas were soft, and worn in some places, stained with coffee and soy sauce, and fraying at the sleeve and leg holes. Kuro will support me, they thought before drifting to sleep, he’s on my side.

They awoke in a cold sweat, the cotton fabric of their pyjamas sticking to the skin of their chest. For a moment, they didn’t know where they were, and they blinked away the light spots dancing in front of their eyes. They rubbed at their face, caught a glimpse of the orange on their hand, and it all came crashing down on them. They found their soulmate yesterday… 

They tried to remember the dream they just had, but everything just dissolved like sand slipping through their fingers. The dream started with Kuro calling out to them, whisper-shouting in the way dreams sound, and suddenly they were alone on a beach of small shingles, waves lapping at their feet. The water had a strange orange glimmer to it, and the clouds were a pale peach colour. They heard their name -- Kozume, Kozume -- before realising they weren’t alone anymore. The beach was crowded with orange shadows, who turned to black as soon as Kenma laid eyes on them. The waves started losing their colour as well, and Kenma was suddenly drowning.

That suffocating sensation is what had woken them up. They panted harshly until they could catch their breath again, and silently thanked Lev for not being here. They did not have nightmares often, they didn’t usually dream at all, and they were left with the unpleasant tingle that it probably meant something. Kenma did not want to dwell on it though, so they gulped down water from their bottle and tried to go back to sleep.

When they woke up again, they had the impression of not having slept at all. The dream had left a bad taste in their mouth, though they could only remember shades of black overpowering every other colour. Lev was not back yet, and they sighed when they checked their clock -- being up at seven in the morning always sucked, and they didn’t even have morning classes.

Groggily padding to the kitchen area, they made themself a bowl of cereal and started eating it dry, before remembering to pour milk into it. They’d soon be out of rice milk… but they hated grocery shopping alone. They’d have to bring Lev or Kuro, they thought distractedly. Oh, they were supposed to meet Kuro today, they might as well do it then. 

Kenma got out of the dorm at ten, hoping the cold would be manageable, and went to their coding class. After having seen Shouyou on the way there, they thought the day couldn’t get more awkward, but that was without counting on their awful luck. 

“Hi, Kozume,” a voice said behind them, and they turned to see Akaashi entering the room. “I hope you’re well.”

They answered with a noncommittal grunt, and tried to sit as far from him as possible without it being too obvious they were avoiding him. Akaashi must have caught on regardless, because he did not turn towards Kenma and left the class without trying to say goodbye. Kenma felt the taste of ash on their tongue, like every time they and Akaashi interacted. They had to stop themselves from staring at Akaashi’s soulmark, which was a bright red colour, written in a neat script on their neck. 

For the first time, Kenma really regretted not giving a fake number to Shouyou. Who knew what he was really like ? Who knew what he’d do ? Soulmates meant nothing, they’d seen enough to be sure of that fact. Soulmates only meant what one allowed them to be, and truth be told, Kenma wanted theirs to stay away.

They wished life had remained the same. They wished for quiet mornings, chats with Kuro, the humdrum of homework and a little job as a game designer in some company or another. Was it too much to ask ? Was wanting to never meet their soulmate selfish ? They’d heard from multiple people that soulmates were incredibly special. That no one else could understand your thoughts like a soulmate did, no one else would complete you in the same way. 

And they hated it. Kuro was not their soulmate, but they doubted they’d ever be as close to someone ever again. Their only reassurance was that Shouyou looked a thousand times nicer than Akaashi did.

After their classes were over, Kenma decided to go to Kuro’s dorm. The next day was a Saturday and they did not have any classes during the weekend, which meant plenty of time to do what little homework was due. They had a scarf this time, but still walked hastily, breath a tad short when they finished climbing the stairs that led to Kuro’s third floor room.

“The elevator is broken again.” they grumbled as soon as Kuro opened his door.

“Yeah, I know,” he answered, “it’s been like that for a hot second.”

“No one says that, Kuro,” but they smiled.

They took their coat off and put it with their bag in a little heap on the floor. Kuro had obviously not been working, as the drama playing on his computer proved, so Kenma felt a little better for coming unannounced. “You’re always welcome! We don’t turn stray kittens away,” Kuro would say if he knew what they were thinking. It’d be almost as embarrassing as the “we are the blood” speech that he gave before every high school volleyball match. Kuro as a whole was embarrassing. His hair looked like a rat’s nest and he laughed like a chicken.

He was Kenma’s very best friend. Their first real friend. They remembered learning about soulmates in one of those children’s books, reading over and over about the Great Change and how soulmarks started appearing. It scared them more than anything. “You should go play with your friends !” their mother used to say. But they had no friends, and they sure as hell did not want to risk having someone bound to them if this person didn’t even like them.

Kuro had arrived in their neighbourhood when they were six. His mother had insisted on visiting every house on their street, and eventually she had knocked on the Kozumes’s door, seven year old Kuro hidden in her skirt. She’d given one of her homemade mochi to Kenma, and announced that they were “welcome to play with Tetsurou anytime”. Kenma, also hidden in their mother’s skirt, had eyed the newcomer warily, and decided that he probably wasn’t worth the trouble. But their mothers had become best friends, especially since Kuro’s second mom spent a lot of time at the hospital, and the two kids had been in each other’s houses as often as in their own.

Kuro was loud, sociable and sporty. Kenma was small, unassuming and anxious. Against all odds, they found out they enjoyed each other’s presence greatly. Kuro was Kenma’s link to the outside world, their point of entry into a whole new realm of friendships and connections. Kenma was Kuro’s quiet place, someone he could talk to without the pressure of keeping up with appearances. Summer holidays found them sprawled in their underwear in Kenma’s room, by far the coolest place of both their houses, and in the winter, they bundled up in Kuro’s living room, watching TV while his moms prepared Kenma’s favourite dishes.

They were not soulmates. No marks had appeared on them when they’d touched, and Kenma would have hated for it to be otherwise. Their bond was one made of more than chance, it was true and raw like molten metal solidifying into a shape uniquely theirs.

How sad that Kuro, who’d been talking about meeting his soulmate for as long as they’d known each other, would have one that rejected him. While Kenma, who’d never even wanted to meet theirs, had one willing to bond.

“...ma, Kenma, yo, are you listening?” Kuro was waving a hand in front of their face. They hadn’t realised they’d gotten lost in thought, and they smiled apologetically.

“Sorry, I was distracted. I…” they wondered whether they should mention it. They decided against it, but Kuro was too smart for his own good.

“You saw Akaashi.”

“Yeah,” they said. “Tough luck that we’d pick the same major.”

“You know…” Kuro started to say, before pausing, and sighing. “It’s not because I messed up that you will too. Hinata seems like a cool kid.”

“Yeah,” they said again, unwilling to fight with Kuro over whether or not he was at fault. It would help neither of them to put salt in the wound, and Kenma suddenly felt a lot more resolve in following through with Shouyou.


	4. hello ? is it me you're looking for ?

**To: kenma**

_hi!!!!!!_

Shouyou inhaled deeply, and pressed the “send” button. There, it was done, he’d sent the first text. After seeing Kenma yesterday, he had thought of sending them a message of reassurance, but class happened, Yachi finally came back to the dorm (with dozens of questions about his soulmate), and before he knew it, it was way past the time to engage a conversation. Now, in the middle of a Sunday afternoon, should be a good time to message Kenma.

The answer came really quickly, much faster than Shouyou anticipated. It was a short “ _finishing my fight_ ”, and Shouyou waited patiently for another message.

**From: kenma**

_sorry……… was playing pokemon_

Shouyou immediately lit up. He loved Pokemon ! Although he had only watched the anime as a kid, the little creatures evoked a deep nostalgia in him, and he immediately sent a row of exclamation marks as an answer. Kenma replied with a happy smiley. They exchanged casual messages about which starter they liked best, how they built their pokemon team, which generation they had played. Shouyou tapped his fingers on his collarbone, the rhythmic, hollow sound keeping him focused. 

**To: kenma**

_so u like video games???? we’re in the same uni, right???? what are you majoring in???_

He’d seen Kenma in the biochem corridor, but as he had guessed, it was not their subject of choice. They actually majored in game design, which Shouyou thought fit them well. After a lull in the conversation, Kenma asked him the same question.

**To: kenma**

_oh!!!!!! i actually major in sociology!!!!!! but only as a side!!!. i got in thanks to the volleyball scholarship haha_

**To: kenma**

_i’m a middle blocker!!!! it’s the position where u prevent the other team from scoring hehe. it’s really cool!!!!!! i’m in the boy’s team this time too!!!! have u ever seen a volley match?????_

It took several minutes for Kenma to answer, and his short “ _no._ ” let Shouyou know that this was a topic he should leave be for the time being. He’d switched from tapping on his collarbone to biting his finger, and after a particularly long pause, he drew blood. Calm down, Shouyou, he said to himself, be quiet.

“Quiet hands” was the terms most of his elementary school teachers has said when he explained he wanted, needed, to move, or he’d explode. Quiet hands, quiet mouth, quiet brain. Kenma sounded like a quiet person. Shouyou had to try and be as calm as possible.

**From: kenma**

_have you played monster hunter world?_

**To: kenma**

_no?????? what is it??????_

The rest of the afternoon was spent lazily texting Kenma and neglecting his homework. Sometimes, they wouldn’t answer for a dozen minutes, before sending a short but efficient message. Sometimes, they would send two or three quick messages, with a deeply sarcastic undertone. Shouyou had trouble deciding whether they were laughing at him, and he bit his finger some more.

When Yachi came back to the dorm, Shouyou said his goodbye to Kenma -- “ _oh roomie is here!!!!! see u soon!!!!!_ ”, to which they answered “ _bye :)_ ”. He stared at the smiley face for a good ten minutes, before raising his head and whining loudly.

“Yachi ! They sent me a smiley face ! What does that mean?”

“It’s because they had fun, you doofus,” she said after reading their last few messages. “Seems like you two chatted for a while ! I’m glad.”

The next day, Shouyou woke up early, and changed into gym clothes. Volleyball practice was going to start at eight AM and he wanted to go on a run before that. He met Kageyama in front of the barely open coffee shop and they jogged in silence, their breaths coming out in short puffs. When they saw the gym, they started sprinting, scaring off pigeons and sparrows.

“I- I got he- here first!” Shouyou panted when they’d both reached the gym. “Beat you!” 

“No way!” Kageyama exclaimed, but he was too out of breath to complain more.

They walked in, inhaling the scent of Air Salonpas and sweat, and the distinct smell of worn-out rubber. Some of their teammates were already there, stretching and setting up the nets. Shouyou and Kageyama quickly made their way to the closet and got out the ball cart. He was really excited about practice. It was only his second one, and he did not know the team well, but there were a few familiar faces. Kageyama, of course, who had gone to the same high school as him, and Bokuto Koutarou, who he recognised from volleyball magazines. Shouyou had been a little intimidated by him at first, before realising that the former ace was just someone as passionate about volleyball as him.

“Shouyou !” Bokuto yelled as soon as he saw him. “My little man, how are you doing ?”

The stretches were spent in companionable chatter, and practice was still a bit lax, the volleyball season not yet in full swing. After an hour, they all headed to the lockers to shower and change into school clothes. Kageyama sent him a sharp look when Shouyou changed out of his sports bra into his binder, but for once, it wasn’t to complain about how he was crushing his chest.

“So, that’s it, huh,” he said. “That’s your soulmark.”

“Yeah !” Shouyou answered in a low voice. He suddenly felt a little embarrassed to have it on display. He’d tried not to look at it too much, and had mostly succeeded, so he was surprised all over again by how blue it was, a stark contrast with his pale freckled skin. Kozume Kenma… 

“Wah ?” suddenly came from behind them. “Hinata got a soulmate ?”

Exclamations erupted in the crowded locker room, and the captain, Mizoguchi, had to yell to bring the silence back. “One at a time,” he said sternly, which reminded Shouyou of his former captain, Daichi. “Don’t overwhelm him.”

Shouyou sent him a grateful look, before answering the questions about who his soulmate was.

“Their name is Kenma - ah, yeah, they’re in our uni. No, I don’t think they do sports, haha.”

Bokuto clapped him loudly on the back. “It’s good you met them. Man, so much happens when you’re in uni !”

Conversations died down eventually, and they all left to go to their classes. Shouyou felt relieved of a burden he didn’t even notice he was carrying. Everyone had reacted so… underwhelmingly. Of course, they’d all been excited for him, but their questions were limited to “What’s their name?” and “How old are they?”, without touching on more… dangerous topics, like dating. 

Truth be told, Shouyou had never been that interested in soulmates. Of course, he had books about them when he was a kid, aimed at romance-crazed little girls, but his parents had quickly learned that sitting still in front of pink-hued images was not his strongest ability. Of course, he’d learned about the Great Change, and the advent of soulmarks, but he hadn’t paid much attention to those classes. Part of it was distaste at the mere idea kissing someone, and part of it was just that… life held so much more than relationships. 

Shouyou had never felt included in the majority. Being transgender and coming out at a young age tended to do that, but it ran deeper. It appeared in the way he couldn’t sit still, it showed in his messy handwriting and his scattered thoughts, it became obvious in his boundless energy and his loud voice. He had textures he could not stand and sounds he simply didn’t hear.

He was simply too much for most people, and he’d spent elementary and middle with a grand total of two friends who were soulmates with each other, and though they never made him feel like a third wheel, he definitely felt a depth in their relationship that wasn’t extended to him. It was ok, though, mostly. Elementary school was spent biking around, and middle school was all about volleyball. Shouyou didn’t even know what a blue soulmark meant, and he distractedly thought he should look that up.

Classes had started to be more interesting now that he’d read up a bit of the recommended books list, and though they were only two weeks in, the teacher warned the class that they’d have a research paper due very soon, the first real, big assignment of Shouyou’s university life. Yamaguchi, sitting on his left, noted down the date in his bullet journal, and Shouyou caught a glimpse of strawberry stickers and little doodles. Tsukishima was typing away on his computer, and Shouyou could feel the strain in his posture from the neck brace he was wearing.

Lunch was spent planning a study afternoon with Kageyama and Yamaguchi, where the latter would hopefully be able to make calm reign enough that they’d focus on doing their respective homework instead of bickering. He had been a great help with homework while they were still in high school and Shouyou really appreciated that he put time aside for them. 

As they decided on taking a break, Shouyou got his phone out of his bag and started going through his missed messages. There were some from Natsu, who was waiting for the basketball team tryouts, and some from the volleyball club’s group chat. Most of it was spam messages of various members starting emoji contests, and he thought amusedly about a similar occurrence in his high school message group.

His phone beeped loudly and he startled. He’d been so distracted by Kageyama and Yamaguchi’s discussion about the recent flood in their home region that he’d completely forgotten about holding it in his hands. He quickly unlocked it again, wondering who was messaging him, and was really surprised to see it was Kenma.

There was no text, only a picture. Kenma’s face was barely visible behind a curtain of bleached blond hair, and he was making a peace sign. Visible on his index finger was Shouyou’s name, orange as ever. He didn’t have time to type out an answer before a new message arrived.

**From: kenma**

_kuro said i should send you this…_

Shouyou gasped audibly, which made Kageyama and Yamaguchi turn toward him, both of them clearly worried. He held up his phone so that they could see the selfie Kenma had just sent, and he found their underwhelmed faces utterly disappointing.

“So that’s them, huh,” Kageyama said, before turning back to his research paper. 

“They’re quite pretty,” Yamaguchi added, and he did the same.

Quite pretty ? Shouyou felt like his heart was going to explode. Kenma was the cutest person he’d ever witnessed, even his little sister paling in comparison. What was he going to answer ? Would anything compare to what he’d just received ? He ended up sending a key smash made entirely of capitals, and a selfie of his own.

**From: kenma**

_oh you’re with friends… i don’t wanna bother you…_

**To: kenma**

_nooooo!!!!!! aaaaah!!!!!!_

**From: kenma**

_:)_

“They’re adorable, oh my god !” Shouyou couldn’t help but exclaim, making Yamaguchi chuckle. 

Shouyou sent a quick apology text, saying he’d be back when they finished working, but he was barely able to focus on schoolwork, even with Yamaguchi’s patient help. It felt like his brain was on fire, preoccupied only with what Kenma would say or do next. Shouyou hadn’t felt this way since their last volleyball tournament. If he could get Kenma to come to one of their matches, or even better yet, if he could somehow convince Kenma to play with him, he’d surely die of happiness.

After a while, Yamaguchi forfeited, and let Kageyama and Hinata fill him in with all the volleyball gossip their team had to offer. Some players were really highly ranked, even at a national level, like Bokuto, Fukurodani’s former ace, or Ushijima, the top player in their home region of Miyagi. 

“I wonder what it’s like to play with him instead of against him…” Yamaguchi wondered.

They’d never been able to do so. Beaten twice by the rival school of Aoba Johsai in their first year, their high school volleyball team never even had the chance to play against Ushijima’s Shiratorizawa, who had advanced to nationals.

“It’s honestly amazing,” Shouyou said at the same time as Kageyama, who frowned and said, “It’s super annoying.”

Yamaguchi chuckled. “I bet it is,” she answered to them both. “At least, there doesn’t seem to be Aoba Johsai players on the team.”

“There’s Yahaba,” Shouyou said, “but he’s suspended for now. I think he hit an upperclassman.”

“Oh, wow,” Yamaguchi said. “I mean, can’t say I’m surprised,” he added thoughtfully. “He was a real bitch in our second year.”

“Yeah,” Kageyama’s eyes darkened, “he’s a prick.”

They spoke about volleyball for a good hour, until Tsukishima came back from his doctor’s appointment and shooed Kageyama and Shouyou away. With mumbles of “Stingyshima”, they made their way out and went back to their dorms. Shouyou had kind of forgotten about his phone and only got it out of his bag after he’d had dinner with Yachi. He was surprised to see another text from Kenma, and he felt glad that they were in the mood to talk. They were asking what he would be doing the next day, and Shouyou eagerly answered that he had a double free period for lunch. He could fetch Kenma from his class and they’d be able to eat together, if Kenma wanted to.

After a few minutes of silence during which Shouyou bit his nail so hard it broke, Kenma answered with a small “ _why not :)_ ”, and he let out a relieved sigh. They wished each other good night after having decided on a time and a place, and Shouyou changed into his pyjamas quietly. Yachi was already asleep and the lights were off, so he had a bit of trouble walking to his bed without tripping on one of the various items that littered the floor around it, but he made it eventually. 

He’d be seeing Kenma tomorrow… He felt both relieved and excited about meeting up. Kenma had seemed at least a little excited as well, which was a great sign. They had decided on going to the cafeteria instead of going back to one of their dorms to cook there, and Shouyou was already drooling at the idea of eating a meat bun. He also planned a little surprise for Kenma, and he hoped they’d like it.

Shouyou fell asleep with a smile on his face, still thinking about the next day. He didn’t dream.


	5. hi, you’re cute, wanna get onigiri ?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, bad at posting stuff: i swear it's all written down and beta'ed.............  
> anyways, you have in this chapter a wonderful illustration by my artist for this bang, Larissa !!! enjoy the quality onigiri and go to her insta / tumblr to see her work !!  
> [here is her tumblr post !!!!!](https://ladytyburn.tumblr.com/post/189216781279/i-was-able-to-draw-two-pictures-for-hazblogs)

Books were one of the things Kenma understood least. Who would willingly cut a tree, turn it into pulp, thin it out and put ink on it? Humans worked in mysterious ways. They heard Kuro’s voice in their head telling them that they were human as well, and they grimaced. Sometimes, they wished they’d been born as a cat.

They were on their way to Kuro’s dorm to grab one of the offending objects, a book about something magical or another, that he said they’d like. Kenma didn’t read as much as they had when they were in elementary or middle school, but they still had a fondness for dog eared pages and the smell of old paper. All of Kuro’s books had coffee stains on them and little annotations in the margins that made them living objects, worn-out but well-loved. 

Kuro wasn’t at his dorm, apparently, because no one answered their knock on the door. Kenma waited for a few minutes in the cold, badly lit corridor, and was about to leave when he heard someone come in.

“Hey hey hey!” Koutarou boomed out. “Isn’t that Kenma!”

“Hi, Koutarou,” Kenma said. “Where’s Kuro?”

“He’s looking for his scarf, he lost it yesterday. Wanna come in?”

“Sure,” they answered.

Koutarou and Kuro’s dorm was just as big as Kenma Lev’s, but it appeared both larger and smaller because of the cluttered floor and the many posters and pictures on the wall. A lot of them were cutouts from volleyball magazines, but there were a few odd posters of wildlife and photographs of both their high school volleyball teams. While Koutarou had kept playing, Kuro had stopped after his first year of university, though he still loved the sport dearly.

“You looking for something?” Koutarou asked, dropping his bag on the floor and stretching his arms and back. “If that’s the book, it’s on his bed.”

“Thanks, Koutarou.”

Kenma took the book and turned towards the door when they heard Koutarou clear his throat ominously.

“I heard you got a soulmate,” he said. “Congrats, I guess !”

“Thanks, Koutarou,” Kenma said in a voice much colder than before.

“Hey, Kenma, don’t be, like… upset, like. Ah. I’m not sure how to say that.”

“That”, in Kenma’s head, was directly translated as “Akaashi”, and they sneered. _You mean, don’t be sad if he fucks me over ?_ , they thought, but they kept quiet.

“It won’t settle what you’ll do with your life. That’s only for you to decide, y’know ? You’re the one in charge,” Koutarou said, and he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. 

Kenma didn’t answer, waved goodbye and left to their classes, book clutched so hard that their knuckles turned white. When they arrived in class, most people were already settled, and they spotted Akaashi sitting in the back with another student they didn’t know. Ignoring him, Kenma went and sat down at the front, putting the book into their bag. The lecture was boring, and they almost regretted coming. The guy who made a one-hour lecture start at eight in the morning was surely a monster…

Kuro was waiting in front of the class, and when the bell rang, he made a beeline for Kenma, not glancing at Akaashi when he exited the room. “Kitten! You got my book, right? Bo told me.”

“Yeah,” they said. “What are you doing here?”

“I can’t even see my best friend anymore? You wound me,” he chuckled. “Come, I know you have a free period right now.”

They walked in companionable silence to the bench that they liked, under that maple tree, and Kenma fiddled with the strings of their hoodie to keep their fingers busy. The mark was there, taunting them. Hinata Shouyou, in bright orange. Kuro noticed and smirked, but he said nothing, which Kenma was grateful for. They had enough on their mind without Kuro’s commentary.

“Give me your bag,” they suddenly asked.

“What for? Wanna steal more books? I have one on DNA that might interest you,” Kuro joked.

Kenma just made grabby hands until Kuro complied, and they rummaged through the mess until they found what they were looking for, a roll of finger tape. Nostalgia tugged at their heartstrings as they unrolled the tape before covering their index finger. Volleyball… It could have been fun, and in some way, it had been, but that was thanks to Kuro. They shivered when they remembered Shouyou played volleyball as well, and they wondered briefly what it’d be like to play against him.

Shouyou’s soulmark was blue. They’d read up enough on them that they knew what the colour was supposed to mean. “Trust”, for the most part. They were meant to trust Shouyou, wholeheartedly, with no take-backs. They had an orange mark, which meant a platonic connection, among many other things. Gibberish, if you asked them, but they couldn’t help the little sinking of their stomach at the idea that so much had been decided for them before they even had the chance to agree.

The free period was over in a flash and Kuro and Kenma got up from their bench, hugged each other and left for their classes. Once more, Akaashi was already seated when Kenma arrived, and they ignored his smile in favour of sitting as far from him as they could. 

As soon as the bell rang, Kenma was out of the room, and they jogged towards the cafeteria, hoping they’d secure a table for their lunch with Shouyou. They were lucky since the place was half empty when they arrived, and they plopped down on a seat next to a window, getting their DS out of their bag. They didn’t even turn it on, it was mostly to deter people from talking to them until Shouyou arrived, which took only a few minutes.

Out of breath, he stopped in front of them, and smiled brightly. “Hi, Kenma!” 

<a href="https://ibb.co/mFXQDmx"><img src="https://i.ibb.co/NnmwVX4/larissa-hq-bb-19.jpg" alt="larissa-hq-bb-19" border="0"></a>

“Hi, Shouyou,” they mumbled, and they raised their head enough to make eye contact. Shouyou’s eyes were a deep hazelnut brown that seemed to glitter under the neon lighting of the cafeteria, a dark rim around his irises that gave them even more depth. “Do you have your food ready?”

“Ah, actually,” and Shouyou blushed horribly, from the tip of his ears to his freckled nose, “I cooked us onigiri ?” He’d phrased it as a question, but he indeed had made them, and he got a bag of tuna and egg omelette onigiri from his backpack. “I didn’t know if you’d eat the tuna ones so I made some with eggs and then I remembered that you might be vegan so I uh. I also brought rice.”

Head lowered, Shouyou seemed to be expecting the worst from Kenma. Instead, they felt a very pleasant warmth radiate from their heart into their entire body, and they felt like they’d explode if they made a wrong move. “Ah, thank you,” they ended up saying. Feeling that it was too bland and didn’t properly convey their feelings, they added, “I’m really happy you went through all this trouble.”

Shouyou’s cheeks couldn’t have been more red than theirs, and they stared at each other for a little while, both too embarrassed to move. 

“Ok, I’m gonna sit down,” Shouyou said eventually, and he also plopped down on a seat. “Eat whatever you want, I got more rice at my dorm.”

[](https://ibb.co/mFXQDmx)

They ate in relative silence, interrupted only by people passing by saying hello. Several people in sports attire waved at Shouyou, and he answered each of them with very enthusiastic hand-waving. Kenma’s social circle seemed minuscule in comparison, and they barely saw Kuro and Yaku, who went to sit at a table of their own.

“Oh !” Shouyou suddenly piped up. “I brought this ! I didn’t know if you’d have the game so I asked Kageyama for his, but, uh, if you wanna play Mario Kart…”

“That’d be lovely,” Kenma answered. They turned their DS on, and waited with Shouyou for the game to load. “I play Princess Peach,” they warned him.

“I’m Yoshi !” Shouyou said excitedly. “But everyone keeps telling me I’m Toad.”

Kenma chuckled. He could see why -- Shouyou was very small for a volleyball player, even though he was of average height compared to men in Japan. Kenma themself wasn’t much taller, and they’d considered playing as a libero, before realising how much of a hassle that was.

“Mushroom cup ?” they asked, wanting to start easy on him.

“Uh, yeah, why not,” he answered.

Immediately, Kenma saw that Shouyou didn’t have much practice. He fell in the most obvious traps and missed the easiest gifts. After four catastrophic races, Shouyou was ranked low on the board, while Kenma easily made it to the first place. Shouyou’s face fell when he realised the gap, and he grumbled that he never played that anyway.

“What do you play, then?” Kenma said.

“I have Professor Layton, but I’ve barely started. I used to… I played sports games.”

The lie was obvious, and Kenma almost got their Animal Crossing cartridge out of the DS bag, but they felt they’d cheer Shouyou up more effectively by engaging with what he had willingly displayed. “Let’s play Professor Layton, then…”

It worked like a charm: Shouyou immediately lit up and got out his cartridge, launching the game and pulling his chair to the other side of the table so that Kenma could see.

They remained in the cafeteria until the end of their lunch break, and when Shouyou got up to pack away his bento box, Kenma could have sworn he’d just arrived. 

“It was awesome !” Shouyou almost yelled when they asked him if he had enjoyed himself. “When can I see you again ?”

“Um… soon, I guess ?” Kenma said. “It would be nice to have more time…”

“Definitely ! I’ll text you anyway, right ?”

Kenma couldn’t help the warm feeling that spread in their belly, and they almost made a move to touch Shouyou’s sleeve like they did with Kuro, but he’d already finished packing his stuff and took a step back.

“Bye Kenma !” he smiled, and the corner of his eyes crinkled. He’s gonna get wrinkles soon, Kenma thought, if he keeps smiling so much. And then they thought that it was stupid, and that Shouyou looked like the kind of person who never aged.

As soon as Shouyou left, another person walked forward to take his place.

“Hi, Morisuke,” Kenma said.

“Hi Kenma. Kuroo told me,” he immediately said. “Congrats on finding your soulmate.”

“He can’t keep his mouth shut,” Kenma pouted. “Soon the whole university will know…”

“And they won’t give a damn,” Morisuke completed. “Hey, don’t pout, I’m glad you found someone.”

Ice cold water wouldn’t have damped down their mood quicker than these words. “It’s not like that,” they said through gritted teeth.

“Oh, I know ?” Morisuke seemed surprised. “Kuroo did tell me you’d agreed to be friends.”

“We’re not even friends yet,” Kenma lied. “We saw each other for the second-and-a-half time today.”

Morisuke took this sage expression that suited him so well, and he made a face like he knew exactly what Kenma was thinking and the thirty-seven reasons why they were wrong. “Your soulmark.”

Kenma looked at him dumbly. Morisuke extended his hand and they understood, so they let him take their left hand into his, and examine the words written on their index finger.

“See, the soulmark’s orange.” Morisuke dropped their hand, and smiled warmly. “It means platonic bond, right ?”

“Yeah…”

“So there’s no issue. You do know there’s several ways to love someone, right ?”

“Yeah…” Kenma felt like they were being scolded by their mother. “Can I go now ? I have class in another building.”

“You go, Kenma.” Morisuke said, and he almost patted their back before awkwardly waving.

Shouyou hadn’t lied when he said he’d text back. At seven in the evening, on the dot, Kenma got a series of messages from him, consisting of several crying kaomoji.

**From: shouyou**

｡：ﾟ(｡ﾉω＼｡)ﾟ･｡ 

**From: shouyou**

(。┰ω┰。)

**From: shouyou**

‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚

**From: shouyou**

_waah class is BORING and NOT fun_

Kenma smiled and began typing their answer, before remembering this kaomoji app they downloaded some time ago. Or was it Kuro who did it? Their phone always seemed to end up in his hands.

**To: shouyou**

｡ﾟ･（>﹏<）･ﾟ｡ 

**To: shouyou**

_i understand… i almost fell asleep in coding_

**From: shouyou**

_no joke!!!!! teachers can make class so boring!!!!_

Their eyes crinkled at a memory. 

**To: shouyou**

_one time my high school teacher fell asleep during a test_

**From: shouyou**

_no way!!!!!_

**To: shouyou**

_imagine every student up to mayhem…_

**From: shouyou**

_HAHAHA_

Kenma hadn’t really heard Shouyou’s laugh, but they imagined a sound of windchimes and twitter, and it made the tip of their fingers buzz. Quickly, before the feeling disappeared, they sent another text.

**To: shouyou**

_wanna meet up this weekend?_

The response seemed to take hours to arrive and Kenma had already gone through several hypotheses, from sudden cardiac arrest to spontaneous combustion, when it finally came in.

**From: shouyou**

_of course!!!!!! we can have a picnic!!!!_

That sounded lovely, and they said so in their next message, accompanied by a happy kaomoji. They settled on Saturday for lunch, and Kenma texted Shouyou the address of a small park near their university. 

Shouyou sent a sad kaomoji as his roommate got back in and apparently said it was homework time, and Kenma could perfectly envision his pout. Did he realise how… alive he was ? Simply by being next to him, Kenma felt like a young tree, full of sap and with buds ready to bloom. They had never felt anything like it, and they never wanted it to stop.

Saturday came far too slow. Kenma counted the days, and they swatted Kuro on the back of his head when he asked what made them so jittery.

“It’s that little shrimp, I can feel it,” he said on Friday evening.

“Guess what you want,” Kenma grumbled, “I’m not telling you anything.”

They actually _hadn’t_ told anyone anything about Shouyou since their lunch together a few days earlier, and they liked it better that way. Koutarou was friendly but ultimately too cheerful for them, Kuro was a pain about everything, and the others were far too meddling for Kenma to handle.

Truth be told, they would have liked someone to talk about all this, someone who only knew _them_ and who would give unbiased, realistic advice. For a fraction of a second, they thought about messaging a relative, before remembering that most of them did not know anything about them, about the Kenma they had become, since they’d left their neighbourhood.

They woke up late on Saturday and felt like they’d simultaneously slept too much and not at all. They dragged their feet to the dorm’s kitchen and started up the coffee machine, coming back to their room to see Lev still wasn’t up. They had both agreed to sleep with the curtains open, which made getting clothes relatively easy. Kenma barely thought about what they were going to wear, aiming for warm and possibly water resistant, and they padded back into the kitchen to cook what they’d take to the picnic.

Shouyou had been nice enough to prepare the food for their previous meet-up, and Kenma felt like they had to compensate somehow by putting in the effort, instead of just making an omelette and rice. There was leftover chicken and some dry soba noodles, they might be able to whip up yakisoba, with the help of a little googling.

An hour later, Lev found them elbows deep in the sink, trying to scrub the little burnt bits at the bottom of the pan. 

“You cooked it too much again, Kenma… That’s not very good,” he said, laughing.

Kenma grumbled that they tried their best, and Lev asked if they made enough for three. A little bickering, a little homework, and it was already time to leave if they wanted to arrive early at the park. They walked at a brisk pace, food in their backpack and hands deep in the pockets of their coat. They were about to be late, they thought, when they saw orange hair a few steps in front of them. Kenma walked a little faster, and sure enough, it was Shouyou, bundled up in a big yellow and red scarf that clashed horribly with his hair. They managed to grab his sleeve and he startled, before shooting them a wide, toothy grin.

“Kenma !” he almost yelled, “I was worried I’d be late !”

“Me too,” they answered quietly, worried the passersby would shoot them glares.

“I actually don’t know where that park is,” Shouyou explained, and Kenma could now see that he had Maps opened on his phone. “I also forgot my food…”

They smiled a little at that. “I got enough for two.” they said, and seeing Shouyou light up at these words made the whole ordeal worth it. The park was tiny, and they had a little trouble finding a place to sit. They ended up on the grass, a blanket under them, and Shouyou started fidgeting again, as if he had something he wanted to say. They decided that it could wait, and they got the food out, which provided an easy distraction.

“Thank you for the food !” Shouyou said, and he snapped the disposable wooden chopsticks Kenma had brought for him. “I’m sure it’s gonna be delicious.”

“I hope so too,” Kenma said.

They spent some time eating in silence, Shouyou wolfing down his noodles and Kenma eating at a much slower pace. They had forgotten how uncomfortable places like this made them. Eating in public had always been weird for them -- what if they stained their clothes? What if they dropped something? What if they spat food on someone ? Questions, endless questions.

Barely remembering therapy advice from ages ago, they closed their eyes and inhaled deeply.

“Kenma ? Are… are you ok ?”

“Yeah, I am,” they answered, but they kept their eyes closed a second longer. “Sorry,” they added, when they had opened their eyes to Shouyou’s worried face. “I’m kinda stressed out.”

Shouyou seemed to mull over this statement for a while. He lifted his chopsticks and almost missed his mouth, dropping a little bit of chicken on his lap. Without even thinking about it, he picked it up and put it in the plastic bag they were using to collect their garbage. Like it was that easy, like he never had to worry about people and their eyes and their stares.

Maybe it _was_ that easy. Maybe Kenma just had to learn that too.

As soon as Shouyou finished his noodles, he was on his feet, and he practically dragged Kenma out of the park, saying they could finish their noodles later. “I wanna show you something.” is all he said, and he led the way to a side street near their university. Halfway to their destination, Kenma understood where he was leading them. The little shop did not look like much, but inside was a treasure for all fans of video games -- little figurines, collector editions, the store even had a section for comics and manga.

“Shouyou…” they started saying, heart beating a little too fast after the sudden departure from the garden, and their speedy walk through the streets. They were not tired, moreso surprised.

“I have… just enough to buy something for my little sister and I don’t know what to get her !” Shouyou said without listening to them. “I don’t even know what’s good quality ! But, ah, I thought you might know, so I brought us here !”

“Oh…” Shouyou, as energetic as he always seemed to be, hadn’t really thought this through. His savings, as Kenma immediately discovered, were not nearly enough for a full-size action figure. Not deterred in the least, he started browsing the smaller ones, before settling on a Funko pop. He paid for the figurine with a large smile, and dragged Kenma out by the arm after he’d bid goodbye to the cashier.

They started aimlessly wandering, not taking the direct route to the dorms. Several streets later, and Shouyou still hadn’t let go of Kenma’s arm. They felt a tingling sensation, light prickles of warmth, everywhere Shouyou was touching them. He had a big smile on his face, obviously happy with his purchase, but already talking about something else. He had fallen into step with Kenma, not walking as fast as before, and it was… nice.

Listening to Shouyou’s excited rambling, Kenma felt a sense of peace envelop them. Shouyou seemed… genuinely happy to be here. Invested in the conversation, interested in knowing more about Kenma but respectful of their boundaries. _I want him to be happy like that, always,_ they thought, and it felt strange -- too intimate -- but it felt right.


	6. make up time !

Exam season wasn’t on, by a long shot, but Shouyou still felt the amount of work piling up absolutely paralysing. He was on meds for his ADHD, which definitely helped (he could already tell the difference with high school, where he’d been an unmedicated mess), but it just couldn’t solve everything. Yachi did her best to help, but there were things he just had to do on his own.

The statistics homework, in particular, proved to be seriously challenging. Math had never been his strong point, and it showed in the messy notes he had for this class, hard to reread and basically useless in their content. Yamaguchi tried to explain some of the more complicated stuff, but being on the student council, he had more than his fair share of duties. Tsukishima, as usual, was not to be accounted for.

**To: kenma**

_waaaaah homework is killing me tonite_

Shouyou found himself sending more and more of these texts, until they became a daily occurrence. It was very reassuring to hear Kenma’s input on what was stressing him out. They obviously had a long history of self-managing anxiety, which showed in the advice they gave him, so very different from other people who didn’t have any experience with it. Their advice helped, but more importantly, they actually listened to Shouyou’s complaints.

Kenma did not answer to his “fuzzy brain” days with contempt, and threats, and demands to “not be like that”. They had something to bring, always, even if that was only lending him an ear.

**From: kenma**

_what’s happening shouyou_

**From: kenma**

_is it stats again_

**To: kenma**

_yesssssssss waaaaaah_

**From: kenma**

_it’ll be ok shouyou… you’ll manage_

**To: kenma**

_kageyama says i should skip practice tmr and work on my test instead_

**From: kenma**

_what would help most, doing something you like or not going and regretting it?_

Said like this, the answer was obvious, and Shouyou did not regret bringing this topic up with Kenma. A fuzzy feeling, so very different from his unruly brain, spread in his chest whenever he talked to them. Friendship so deep was particularly hard for him; even though he got attached easily, it was hard to find someone who met him in the middle.

**From: kenma**

_you’ll tell me how practice goes… (_ _๑ↀ_ _ᆺↀ_ _๑_ _)✧_

Shouyou’s eyes crinkled at the kaomoji. He was used to being the only one sending messages with them, but Kenma also used some, and it was adorable. 

“What are you doing ?” a voice piped up from behind him.

It was Yachi, who had peeked from over her bed to look at the state of his homework. 

“I’m texting Kenma,” Shouyou admitted sheepishly. “But I’ll get back to it now ! I promise !”

“I know, Hinata,” she smiled. “You’re allowed to take breaks, you’ve been at it for hours !”

It was a warm Sunday afternoon, and Shouyou dreamt of nothing more than ditching lessons and books to play volleyball in his yard, back in Miyagi, with Kageyama setting for him over the laundry line. He missed those simpler times, even though he’d had to work like mad to get into such a good university. Looking back on it, only the good memories remained, and he smiled wistfully at the sight of students chatting outside, under his window.

“Ok, one last text, and I’m putting the phone away.” he said aloud, so that Yachi could hold him accountable.

**To: kenma**

_ok i’m going back to work!!!! waaah_

**From: kenma**

_good luck shouyou…_ _（_ _=´∇_ _｀_ _=_ _）_

The next day, Shouyou showed up at the practice session determined to make it a good one, to compensate for all the studying he wasn’t doing. Bokuto and Kageyama were already warming up, stretching their legs together, and Kageyama frowned when he saw him, but didn’t comment.

“Shouyou! How are you, my man !” Bokuto practically yelled, earning some resentful glares from some second years who were putting up the nets. “Good day to play, right ? It’s finally getting warmer !”

It was. Coach had even talked about going to the beach, since the heavy sand would be a good practice – to stay light on their feet. Warm-ups started slowly, and Shouyou found himself doing laps around the gym with some third years he didn’t know well.

Practice was ruthless. They were trying out a new synchronised attack, divided in two teams. Shouyou was not on Kageyama’s side, which always left him with a knot in his stomach. They’d played together for three years now, all throughout high school, and getting used to another setter’s tosses was daunting. It didn’t help that the regular setter, Minami-san, Fukurodani’s former setter, definitely had issues with Bokuto. That led Hinata to not trust him fully, and it showed in their stilted gameplay.

Shouts of "Don't mind !" and "One more time !" echoed in the gym, until they all had to go shower and change into their regular clothes. Shouyou anxiously checked his phone for new messages and he was really happy to see he had four missed texts, all from Kenma. They were all pictures except the last one which read, " _have a good day shouyou_ ”. It made him smile warmly at his phone, flipping back through the pictures of Kenma and their roommate’s potted plants.

Lunch break came far too slowly, but Shouyou did not have class this afternoon, and returned to his room to find a piece of paper on his bed. It was a note from Yachi, who’d gone to Kageyama and Suga’s room to do homework. She said that he was welcome to join, but knowing himself, he’d only get distracted, so he decided to try and work from his room.

For once, Shouyou managed to focus, and he did not even feel the need to take breaks as he worked, too focused on the maths exercises that kept his brain working at a smooth pace. When he raised his head again, it was way past dinner time – he hadn’t even heard his alarm ring. Dragging his feet to the kitchen, he got out a pack of instant ramen and started heating up water in the kettle. After this quick but oddly satisfying dinner, Shouyou went back to his room to brush his teeth. Yachi would probably spend the night at Kageyama’s dorm, considering how late it was, so he did not bother with closing the bathroom door as he undressed.

A sudden twinge of pain stopped him in his tracks. He had a large bruise on his arm, which hurt where his T-shirt snagged on it. Picking up his phone, Shouyou snapped a picture and sent it to Kenma, with the caption “ _look at what i have there smh @volley balls._ ” 

The answer came quicker than expected. It was a screencap of the picture Shouyou had just sent, with something circled in red. “ _what’s that ?_ ” read Kenma’s reply. Shouyou turned around and tried to pinpoint what exactly Kenma had seen, before realising that it was his make up bag, with the Kotoshina logo clearly visible. “ _yeahhh that’s just my beauty bag_ ”, he texted. He felt a little embarrassed at having such a girly item on display, but he reasoned that Kenma, of all people, could understand. “ _you know this brand ?_ ” Shouyou said in his next message.

Kenma’s answer was a quick voice recording, the wind making it hard to hear something other than a mumbled “… like… up sometimes”.

**To: kenma**

_you like make up too?????? that’s so cool!!!!! °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°_

A new audio came in, this time with less wind. “Yeah,” Kenma said, “I have eyeliner that I bought the same day I bleached my hair for the first time. It’s nice to look fem sometimes.” Shouyou hummed thoughtfully, before sending a series of texts, words strewn together without thinking too hard about them.

**To: kenma**

_ooooo i get that!!!!!!_

**To: kenma**

_i wanna learn how to put on eyeliner o(*^▽^*)o_

**To: kenma**

_yknow i tried so hard to avoid pink and stuff after i came out but now!!!!!!!! i wanna try stuff!!!!!_

Kenma answered with a link to a youtube video, and Shouyou audibly gasped when he saw who the youtuber was.

The video was titled “how i put on my eyeliner – quick but realistic”, and consisted in about seven minutes of a twenty-something pinching the bridge of his nose, poking himself in the eye with the pencil, tongue peeking out his mouth. Eventually, he managed to even out the wings of his eyeliner, and made a triumphant peace sign at the camera, before saying his outro. The tutorial was specifically geared towards people with a monolid, which would definitely be more helpful than some of the other ones Shouyou had watched.

However, that wasn’t the reason he was so surprised.

**To: kenma**

_oikawa has a youtube channel??????????_

**From: kenma**

_oh right, you probably know him_

**To: kenma**

_I PLAYED AGAINST HIM_

**To: kenma**

_IT WAS AWFUL_

**To: kenma**

_he’s so good!!!!! i hate him!!!!!_

Back in Miyagi, Aoba Johsai had been a powerhouse, and his own high school team, Karasuno, had lost to them more times that he could count. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, and he’d been delighted to have the chance to take his revenge in university, against the players that had defeated his team so often. Yahaba, the Aoba Johsai captain in Shouyou’s second year, played on his current team, but that was it – he couldn’t wait to face the others in the championships.

**To: kenma**

_waaa… it’s so weird though, how do you know him??????_

Kenma took a while to answer. So long, in fact, that Shouyou was afraid he’d offended them. The answer was a terse “ _kuro plays volleyball_ ”.

**To: kenma**

_oh i see… so you know about him through your best friend??? have you ever seen him play??? isn’t he amazing??? it’s so infuriating_

Again, the answer was short, and Shouyou definitely felt that he’d said something bad this time.

**From: kenma**

_idc about volleyball_

**To: kenma**

_oh………… sorry (_ _｡•́︿•̀｡_ _)_

The conversation was cut short by Shouyou’s alarm indicating it was time to sleep. He sent a quick “ _goodnite!!!!!_ ” to Kenma, but after a full hour of turning and tossing in his bed, he realised he did not feel like sleeping at all. Grabbing his phone from the bedside table, he opened Youtube, and looked up Oikawa’s channel, “bestsetter”. He did not post as much as he used to in high school, apparently, and Shouyou would have paid a fortune to know about this when he was still in his first year. Maybe that would have helped demystify Oikawa a little… Shouyou still had to prevent himself from calling him “Grand King”, especially after having been beaten by him during the Spring Tournament. 

Shouyou scrolled aimlessly through the videos, smiling in spite of himself at Oikawa’s antics. He’d gone to a university in Kyoto, while his ace Iwaizumi went to Tokyo, and Shouyou was excited to face them both. He watched a montage of Oikawa’s best moves (filmed by what seemed to be a very dedicated fanclub), and he only stopped at one in the morning, because his eyes were too tired to keep up.

He awoke to the sound of his phone beeping. It took him a moment to recognise his morning alarm, and he turned it off blearily. Dragging his feet to the bathroom, he grabbed the face cleanser and started his morning routine. He had been on testosterone for a little more than a year and his face was still breaking out horribly, pimples getting mixed up with his freckles. He saw Yachi’s make-up bag, and wondered, patting his face gently with a towel, what he’d look like with eyeliner.

The last time he’d worn some (borrowed from his mother, applied sloppily) had been at the beginning of middle school, when he’d been at the back-to-school speech from the headmaster. He’d broken down crying when he came back home, and he remembered vividly his own reflection in the bathroom mirror, cheeks streaked with black, eyes red and puffy, but a determined set to his jaw.

He’d made his coming out the same day.

It had been difficult to assert being a boy. Life could be ruthless like that, but now that he’d found balance, acceptance and community, he could, if he wanted, express himself however he pleased. He took one look at his phone background, a selfie of Yachi, Kageyama and himself, and inhaled deeply.

**To: kenma**

_hey…… do u think………………… you could teach me how to put on eyeliner???_

He pressed the send button, holding his breath. 

**From Kenma:**

_yeah, of course_ _（。＞_ _ω_ _＜）。_

**From: kenma**

_at my dorm tomorrow? i don’t have class on saturday_

Shouyou smiled widely, finally releasing the breath he was holding. He sent a quick answer and pocketed his phone, grabbing his favourite mug and walking to the kitchen.

Shouyou arrived at Kenma’s dorm at ten in the morning, make-up stash in his backpack, barely containing excited jumps. But it wasn’t Kenma who opened the door. A gigantic silver-haired dude, who must have been over two meters tall, stood in the doorway, and he had to visibly lower his head to look at Shouyou in the eye.

“Kenma,” the giant said, “he’s here !”

“Let him in,” Shouyou heard Kenma grumble, and the giant finally stepped aside to let him enter.

Kenma’s dorm was built in the exact same way as his, but the decor made the rooms contrast wildly. While Yachi and he had decorated the walls with pastels and even fairy lights, Kenma’s side of the wall was covered in brightly coloured video games posters. The giant also had some, but most of the space was taken up by a massive map of Russia.

“I’m Lev !” The giant extended a hand so Shouyou could shake it. “I’m glad Kenma has friends !”

“Hum, ok ? I’m-” but Shouyou was cut off.

“Hinata ! I know, Kenma told me all about you.”

“That’s not true at all,” Kenma blankly said from their place on the carpet. “Lev, you’re too loud.”

But Shouyou, who was still inspecting the walls, gasped audibly. “You like volleyball !”

“What ? Oh ! Yeah, I do !” Lev exclaimed. “I was the ace in my third year of high school.” And he pointed at one of the smaller pictures, a team all in red, Lev clearly noticeable in the middle of the shot. He was the tallest by far, and his silver hair made him stand out even more. “And Kenma-”

But before he could add anything, Kenma coughed loudly, and Lev shut his mouth as fast as he had opened it. “Lev, you said you would go see Morisuke.”

“Oh, right, yeah. See you later Hinata !” And just like that, barely grabbing his keys, he was out.

“Ugh,” Kenma said. “He’s so loud.”

“You two know each other ?” Shouyou asked, curious.

“We went to the same high school.”

They did not seem to want to add any details, so Shouyou dropped the matter, and excitedly took out his mascara and other various tubes and pencils from his bag. He dropped them in a messy pile on the carpet next to Kenma, who started sorting through the products.

“This one is old as fuck,” they said eventually, holding up the mascara bottle. “It won’t apply well.”

“I know,” Shouyou whined. “But I never wear any so it felt like a waste to buy a new one!”

“I’ll lend you mine…”

After a few minutes of holding black and blue items up to the light to read their labels, Kenma selected some of them and motioned for Shouyou to follow them to the bathroom. The sink was cluttered with several toothpaste tubes and volleyball tape.

“Does Lev still play ?” Shouyou asked.

“Yeah, at a local club. The uni team is too demanding.”

“I see…”

Kenma rummaged into the cabinet over the sink and got out their own make-up bag, pouring its contents next to Shouyou’s items. It was well furnished, but they obviously favoured quality over quantity. Shouyou was surprised to see bright red lipstick; he hadn’t thought that Kenma would wear such a scandalous colour.

As if reading his thoughts, Kenma put the tube back in the bag. “I got it as a gift,” they explained quietly. “I don’t think I’ve ever used it,”

Shouyou wouldn’t have dared to admit it some years ago, but he was fascinated by lipstick. One of his earliest memories was of his mother, bright pink lipstick on, smiling at him and singing. It made her mouth like something out of a fairy tale, like a butterfly, like a flower, the petals of which dripped with honey. He’d sometimes sneaked a tube out of his mother’s bag just to try it on – he could never apply it properly and it no doubt looked garish on his pale face, but it gave him a feeling of power, of self-control, that he rarely ever felt.

After humming thoughtfully for a little while, Kenma selected a black eyeliner pencil, some colours of eyeshadow, mascara and a tube of transparent gloss. They turned to Shouyou and asked, “Should we move back to my room? I’ll hold a mirror up so you can see.” He nodded, and they settled back to their position on the floor, Kenma sorting through their bedside drawer until they found their mirror. “Ok,” they said, “hold this up, I’ll show you how to put eyeliner on first.” Shouyou nodded, and tried his best to focus on Kenma’s hands.

The first thing he noticed was the soulmark. It was a deep orange colour, in perfect harmony with Kenma’s caramel skin. It was written in Shouyou’s messy scrawl, the brush strokes obviously rushed and half-mastered. Kenma’s fingers were long and thin, but they did not look fragile, on the contrary, Shouyou’s first thought was that Kenma had setter hands. Kageyama’s fingers looked just the same.

“Are you focusing, Shouyou ?”

He blinked – he had, indeed, not been focusing, and he’d missed Kenma applying the stroke of black to their left eye.

“It’s ok,” Kenma said. “Just focus on the second eye.”

Shouyou did his best to look at what Kenma was doing, and this time, he followed the movement of Kenma’s fingers, swiping the eyeliner on like it was nothing. It left a deep dark mark over their eyelid, very much in contrast to their amber-coloured eyes. If Shouyou hadn’t known it was impossible, he would have said Kenma’s pupils were slits, like a cat’s. They moved with feline precision – or was it laziness ? What was it that made their every move seem both uncaring and focused ?

“Did you see ?” Kenma asked.

“Yeah,” Shouyou breathed out, still mesmerized by the gold flakes he could see dancing in Kenma’s irises.

“Ok, your turn,” Kenma said.

Taking the eyeliner pencil, Shouyou tried to focus on his reflection. He stuck his tongue out, mimicking how his mother did it, and he applied a splotch of black to the corner of his eyelid. 

“That’s not exactly it,” Kenma smiled, but they did not smirk. “Try not pushing too hard on the pencil.”

“Ok,” Shouyou breathed, and he focused on the second eye. It went on much more smoothly, even though the line of black was a bit too thick for his liking. “It’ll come with practice,” he said to try and reassure himself.

“It will. Here, try and apply the mascara.” Kenma handed him the tube, and their hands brushed. Shouyou felt – not quite like static, but more so like a spark where their fingertips had touched. Kenma felt it too, they must have, and Shouyou blinked owlishly until the tingling calmed down.

Kenma leaned in and rubbed off the mascara that had smudged on Shouyou’s skin, touch so quick, he barely realised it was there before it was gone. “Let’s put off the lipstick for another time, alright?” they murmured. Shouyou nodded, trying to hold on to the feeling.

Hours later, as dawn started painting the sky a rosy hue, Shouyou still felt the warmth of Kenma’s hand on his face. Or maybe it was his own burning cheeks, an indication of the fire raging in his brain, that prevented him from sleeping, although he was exhausted. He thought back on how long it had been since someone had been so… intimate with him. How long had it _really_ been ? If you didn’t count that one time Kageyama had awkwardly hugged him after their graduation ceremony, the only proximity he’d had was play-fighting with Natsu, and his mum ruffling his hair. 

Transitioning into boyhood had been a blessing, and it had gone much more smoothly for him than for other people. Shouyou would forever be grateful for his supportive family, friends and teachers, and he’d always think back on his coming out as one of the best things in his life. But it had, indeed, had other effects, like a certain reluctance of people to be physically close to him. It had really hurt at first – not knowing why all of a sudden all his female friends refused to talk crushes and clothing with him, why the most physical affection he could receive from other men was a high five or being jokingly punched. 

Kenma’s fingers on his cheek felt like rain after a drought, and when he finally fell asleep – thankfully, no classes on Sunday – he dreamt of lips stained with ice lolly and sticky hands ruffling his hair.

Shouyou woke up hours after that, mind foggy and breath stale. He painstakingly dragged himself to the bathroom to brush his teeth, and decided that it was definitely too late for lunch, only eating a snack before getting his laptop out of its bag.

The big stats exam he dreaded so much was on Tuesday, which left him with about two days to study – oh, he’d started long before that, but only the pressure of the deadline could get through the thick of trying to decipher his notes, and Yamaguchi’s, and forget about Tsukishima’s reprobating gaze.

When his dinner alarm rang, Shouyou felt like he had made no progress at all, and he dreaded the moment Yachi would come back and ask him how he was doing. Where had she even been, all throughout this weekend?

She eventually came in – Shouyou knew it was her because even if she had the key, and the right to enter the dorm just as much as he did, she insisted on knocking to make her presence known. The kissing incident with Yamaguchi had not been forgotten about.

“Hinata !” she said when she saw him hunched at his computer. “I missed you !”

Shouyou wasn’t expecting this, and he smiled, relieved, through the wince of dread he’d instinctively made when he heard her come in. “I miss you too… You’re never here anymore !” he complained.

“I, uh-” and her cheeks were bright pink when she said it, “I was seeing Kiyoko-san.”

“You what now ?!” Shouyou couldn’t believe it. “Finally ! Gosh, I’m so happy for you !”

“We didn’t do anything !” Yachi squeaked. “We-” and if possible, she became even redder, “we held hands a little.”

“Oh my, Yachi, how scandalous,” Shouyou smiled, but he hugged her tightly and whispered in her ear that he was glad this was finally getting somewhere.

“You haven’t eaten dinner yet,” Yachi said immediately after he released her. “I’m gonna make curry, tell me if you want some.”

“Yeah, that’d be lovely.”

“Be right back then!” And with these words, she was gone, leaving Shouyou with a dreamy aftertaste. Holding hands… He’d definitely been close enough to hold Kenma’s hand yesterday, but the idea hadn’t even crossed his mind then. Maybe he was too busy with the make-up? That was probably it.

The next day was spent dreading Tuesday’s exam with as much force as Shouyou’s moderately-sized body could contain. His notes turned to gibberish in front of his eyes, and even Yachi’s calming playlist of “music box Ghibli soundtrack, Hinata, it’s good to help you relax” didn’t help much. On exam day, he woke up cramped, his muscles so tightly wound that walking to the bathroom sink made him feel like he’d gained a hundred years.

His stomach was definitely too weak for food, he decided, and he just silently packed his stuff and left the room, Yachi still asleep. He was going to skip volleyball today, he just wasn’t able to focus on anything but the exam, and how bad he would do at said exam. His phone rang and he startled, dropping his bag on his foot, and then yelping in pain. He turned towards Yachi’s bed but she slept undisturbed, and he sighed in relief. Closing the door softly behind him, he slung his bag over his shoulder and opened his messaging app to see who it was.

**From: kenma**

_good luck shouyou ♡✧(_ _ु•⌄•_ _)_

Shouyou stood amazed in front of his dorm room, and he smiled so wide he felt it tug at his ears.

**To: kenma**

_omg kenma (´_ _；_ _ω_ _；_ _`)_

Kenma’s next text message was a cute cat face, and Shouyou stared at it with what Tsukishima would call “heart eyes”, before pocketing his phone and walking up to the building where his exam was, a new spring in his step.

When he got out, three hours later, he yawned hard enough to earn Tsukishima’s disgusted glare, but he simply stuck out his tongue at him.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Tsukishima remarked.

For once, Shouyou agreed – he’d understood the source material and kind of gotten the main equations they had to explain, so he didn’t feel as abysmal as he thought he would have. He waved goodbye at Tsukishima, who only nodded in answer, and walked to Kageyama’s dorm. They had a little gathering planned, after Shouyou had missed so many opportunities to get in touch with him. Suga-san wouldn’t be there, but it was just as good – sometimes Shouyou felt embarrassed by the gestures of affection he and Kageyama shared, for a reason he couldn’t explain.

“So,” was Kageyama's first word when he opened the dorm door to Shouyou. 

“I met with Kenma the other day. They’re-”

“Yamaguchi told me,” Kageyama said. “They’re the coolest person ever and you’re lucky you didn’t screw this up.”

“Oh shut up, that’s rich, coming from you.” Shouyou answered, but there was no heat in his words.

Kageyama stepped aside to let him in, and Shouyou felt immediately warmed up by the decorations Suga-san and Kageyama had set up. The old volleyball poster from their high school team, designed by Yachi herself, stood out on one wall, while the others were covered in clippings from volleyball magazines and pictures from their high school years. Shouyou smiled at one of them in particular, taken during their second year. They’d held a summer camp with Aoba Johsai, and both teams looked particularly unhappy being photographed all together.

“I heard Yahaba is back in the team,” Kageyama said, noticing which picture he was staring at. “Hoshiumi told me he almost quit, but they wouldn’t let him.”

“Aw. I kinda feel bad, you know,” Shouyou answered, “now that I know he’s kind of out because of me…”

The story was one Shouyou had never expected to live through, but it indeed had happened, and each reminder was as surprising as the last. One of the players (Shouyou suspected it was Minami) had mocked Shouyou’s height, and he hadn’t even been there to hear it. Kageyama wouldn’t tell him exactly what was said, but it had been enough for him to lunge at the offending party. Only, he was beaten to it by Yahaba, who punched the other in the gut so bad practice had to be interrupted.

“I won’t tolerate violence.” Coach Sasaki had said, and he’d suspended Yahaba for three weeks. The other person, the one who had insulted Shouyou, wasn’t punished, but after years and years of enduring it, Shouyou wasn’t even phased.

“Hoshiumi is nice,” Shouyou eventually said. “I wish they were on our team.”

“Me too,” and Kageyama sighed wistfully at that, “we’d be such a good team.”

“Oh, guess what!” Shouyou exclaimed. Kageyama shot him a bored glare. “Oikawa is gonna compete in the youth team for Japan!”

“I know.”

“Yeah… I wish we could too. Maybe next time,” Shouyou said, hopeful.

“Don’t be an idiot.” Kageyama smacked him on the back of his head.

Bickering ensued, only calmed down by Shouyou’s lunch alarm. He actually hadn’t eaten since Yachi’s delicious plate of curry last night, and he just realised how famished he was. Kageyama dug around in the drawers to find a pack of crackers and some instant ramen, and they ate their food quietly, seated on the floor of the dorm, their knees touching.

“I miss you,” Shouyou admitted quietly after they’d finished eating.

“Don’t be stupid,” Kageyama said, “we see each other almost every week.”

“It’s not the same.” Shouyou whined.

“I know,” and it made him sigh. “Is Kozume… Does he talk to you often?”

“Oh right!” Shouyou excitedly got his phone out of his bag, and started typing a text, “I didn’t even tell them how the exam went!”

**To: kenma**

_i didn’t ace it but heck i didn’t do bad!!!!!!!_

“So, you’re talking to them regularly,” Kageyama commented, almost disinterestedly. Shouyou saw right through him – Kageyama really was not the most subtle person.

“I saw them last Saturday, when you were busy hogging Yachi all to yourself,” he said playfully, and Kageyama perked up.

“So you see him, like, in person, too ? That’s good, Hinata.”

“Since when are you allowed to give relationship advice ?” Shouyou teased him. “But yeah, I saw him on Saturday, and we had lunch some time before that.”

“So… Are you planning on seeing him again soon?”

“I totally should !” Shouyou hadn’t really thought about it, but ideas started to bubble in his head almost instantly. “There’s this modern art exhibit not far from campus, we should definitely go there.”

“A… a modern art exhibit.”

“Yeah, Bakageyama, are you deaf?”

Kageyama looked at him like he’d grown a second head, much uglier than the first, and which started talking in a foreign language. “A museum. You’re suggesting you go to the museum.”

“Uh. Yeah, kinda. It’s an art gallery.”

Kageyama’s face did something very strange, where he looked as it he was about to pop a vein from concentrating so hard, and then, he erupted in a fit of laughter.

Shouyou wasn’t really used to hearing Kageyama laugh. In their first year of high school, getting a smile out of him (outside of volleyball) was painful for everyone, Kageyama included. He’d looked as if his smile had been badly carved out by someone with a faint understanding of what happiness and the human face looked like. Third year, and the role of vice captain, had mellowed Kageyama so much that Tanaka hadn’t been able to believe his eyes when they came to visit the club on one of his free days.

“So you adopted five children?” he’d asked Kageyama, who’d produced a rare genuine smile, which shone brighter than the neon lighting of the gym. The five first years Tanaka was talking about started snickering. “Congrats, dude. Suga-san better marry you now.”

Kageyama had then turned redder than an apple, and he’d babbled nonsense about not being a fitting spouse because he couldn’t sew a button on.

Shouyou chuckled at the memory, and it was his time to smack Kageyama on the head. “I’m gonna take Kenma to the art gallery and it’s gonna be fucking cool, just you wait.”

“Ok, ok,” Kageyama conceded. “I’ll wait.”

But there was genuine happiness in his eyes when he watched Shouyou send the text to Kenma ( _hey, free next weekend to go to the art gallery???????_ ), and he hugged Kageyama extra tight on his way out.


	7. not-a-date museum date, and other shenanigans

“What’s that ?” Lev asked when he saw them come out of the bathroom with an armful of shirts and socks, that they unceremoniously threw into a laundry bag.

Kenma did not even grace that with an answer, and they continued gathering half dirty, half clean items of clothing, strewn in an organised mess around their bed.

“You’re doing laundry !” Lev sounded so shocked, that Kenma raised their head to shoot him a glare.

“So what,” they said. “Are you gonna punish me for being clean ?”

“Nah,” Lev said, completely serious. “You’ve just never done laundry ahead of time.”

“Well,” and Kenma could feel the tip of his ears redden, “I need my red blouse.”

“Oh, the one you wore for Kuroo-san’s birthday ?”

“Yeah, this one,” Kenma said, a little surprised that Lev remembered enough about it to pinpoint the last time they’d worn it.

“Is there…” Lev lowered his voice to a whisper. “A special occasion ?”

“Lev.” It was more of a groan than a real attempt at scolding him, but Kenma dreaded the consequences of Lev’s next words – they knew, they knew what he was going to say, and they really really didn’t want to hear it.

“Oh my god, Kenma, you’re going on a dat-”

“Shut up,” they cut before he could finish. “We’re going to an art gallery. I don’t wanna be underdressed.”

Lev thankfully kept his mouth shut, and he added nothing further to the conversation until Kenma was ready to leave the room with an armful of dirty clothing threatening to spill out of the measly laundry bag. “Hey, Kenma, do you have space for my hoodie ?”

Kenma sent him a death glare and walked away. The laundry room was in the basement of the building, and it sent shivers down their spine to imagine all the spiders and other critters that lurked in the poorly lit corners, but they soldiered on and even waited for the washing machine _and_ the dryer to finish before collecting their clothes and walking back up to their room. They’d brought some notes with them to keep themselves busy, and they’d practically memorised the entirety of the exercises they had to do for their next class. Lev wasn’t in the dorm anymore, probably out and about (or in class, Kenma still couldn’t remember his schedule), so they put on some music to cheer themself up as they folded their clothes and hung the blouse to prevent it from getting all wrinkly. Their phone rang so loudly that they dropped the pile of socks they were carrying.

**From: shouyou**

_hey kenma I was wondering_

**From: shouyou**

_are you supposed to dress up for an art gallery_

Kenma sighed heavily, and found out that they weren’t even exasperated by Shouyou’s text, which showed that he’d put way less effort in coming up with an outfit than they had.

**To: shouyou**

_idk, i suppose business casual_

**From: shouyou**

_i…………. have no idea what that means kenma send help OTL_

If Lev had said this, Kenma would have scoffed, and told him to google it or something equally unhelpful, but… For a reason he couldn’t really explain, they found it endearing that Shouyou panicked over dressing up properly for their outing. It was like every little thing Shouyou did, he did with all his heart, which wasn’t to say that Lev was half-assing anything, but rather, that Shouyou had a disarming way of being so genuinely himself that Kenma couldn’t help but follow in his footsteps.

After being done with laundry folding and clothes Tetris, Kenma went to class, and they were surprised to see Kuro waiting for them in the corridor.

“Hi kitten,” he said when Kenma waded through the crowd enough to be within earshot, “no news is good news but this is an all-time record.”

“Sorry,” Kenma muttered. They’d been bad at talking to Kuro lately. They hadn’t been bad at talking to Shouyou, but… for some reason it didn’t feel like something they had to consciously remember to do – talking to Shouyou just happened, like water flowing out of a tap they couldn’t – wouldn’t close. “I’ve been busy.”

They really had been – for the first time, their class had been asked to code a big project all by themselves, and everyone was up to their necks in half-scribbled notes and coding lines thrown together haphazardly on various loose sheets of paper. Kuro rubbed the back of their head with a warm smile.

“I don’t mind, I’m just worried. Are you even getting out of your dorm, outside of class ?”

“I’m seeing Shouyou this weekend,” they said, and they could feel Kuro’s self-satisfied smile come even before they raised their head and actually saw it. “Don’t- Lev already said it.”

“It’s not a date, not if you don’t want it to be,” Kuro ended up saying, which tightened the knot of excitement in their chest into something more painful.

Did they want it to be a date ? They’d been the one to tell Shouyou they wanted to stay friends, but they… Truth be told, they were getting really attached to that little ball of sunshine. Nothing had ever felt this comfortable, this made-to-fit, except – except with Kuro, and they did not want to date Kuro in the slightest.

“Feelings are confusing,” Morisuke told them once. They were both seated on the steps leading to the gym, watching the first years do a round of drills, and Morisuke had rubbed absentmindedly at the inside of his thigh, where his soulmark was. Kenma was, to their knowledge, the only one in the team to know about it. “You can’t tell who you’re supposed to love, and then it’s already over and you wonder when you missed the train.” He had traced the ideograms, and Kenma had felt a painful tug in their chest – Kuroo Tetsurou, written in neat print, because Kuro prided himself in having the ‘easy to read’ style of writing teachers loved. “I’ll never tell him. I can’t love him like he wants me to, I can’t… I can’t be another Akaashi in his life.”

Kenma wanted – they wanted to say that he was wrong, that Kuro would never hate him for this, that nothing could ever compare to what Akaashi had done, but then again, they hadn’t known Kuro was capable of feeling this much… guilt, this much sorrow, this much sheer grief over a relationship he’d never even had. Maybe Morisuke would help him heal, maybe he’d tear them both down further than they already were. And Kenma, deeply, understood why Morisuke wouldn’t risk it.

“Hello, hello, Earth to Planet Kitten,” Kuro said, and Kenma made a face – a sure sign for Kuro that he’d been saying something really dumb. “We’re at your dorm and you haven’t listened to a word I said on the way there.”

“Whatever,” Kenma said, but they still felt a little guilty for not having listened, and they promised themselves they’d pay more attention next time. Dropping both their bags on the floor, Kenma and Kuro plopped down on Kenma’s bed, and Kuro began telling them the news about how Daishou (“No, Kenma, you don’t understand, he did it especially for me”) had paid a visit to the Fab Lab, and gloated about how his university had better equipment.

“What snarky reply did you give?” Kenma asked, just to see Kuro flounder.

“I told him to stuff his face, and he said-” Kuro paled a little, then turned red, “he said he’d eat me out for dinner if he had to. What does that mean, Kenma ? What, in the ever-loving fuck, does that mean ?”

“Ask him yourself like the grown-up baby you are,” Kenma grumbled, but they couldn’t hide their smile. “Hey, grab my phone, I think it rang.”

Kuro got down from the bed and rummaged through the mess, pulling out a phone that seemed to be Kenma’s, and he started reading the messages as they came.

“Wow, you really should install a pin code, everyone can read about your dirty little secrets,” he commented. “Yaku says hi, Lev says he’ll be late, and oh my, what do we have here… a message from the sun himself.”

“Shut up, just tell me what he said.”

“He’s asking if you have any food allergies. Is he gonna be your stay at home husband? Oh – sorry, sorry, I’m just joking,” Kuro quickly added when Kenma threw him a mean glare.

“Tell him I’m good,” Kenma said, and they let themselves fall down on their pillow, sighing in frustration. Why this feeling and not another, they had no idea, but they just felt… irritated, that Kuro had to see this. Like he’d peeked into Kenma’s secret little life, and came out smiling like a cat who’s caught an even bigger fish than he’d hoped.

“Wow, you really talk a lot with this little shrimpy,” Kuro commented, scrolling up the message history. “He has a little sister? Cute. I bet she looks like him. And, would you look at that, he plays Professor Layton ! Isn’t that the game you bored me to death with? Is he also having issues with those damn puzzles?”

“Stop snooping,” Kenma said, and they snatched their phone from Kuro’s hands. Shouyou had answered that he’d cook for them again, since Yachi, his roommate, wanted to try a new bao recipe, and it involved oyster sauce. They smiled and sent a contented cat kaomoji, before looking up at Kuro, who’d stayed oddly silent.

“Hey, Kenma,” he said after a little while of staring at nothing in particular. “Do you… Do you feel good ? About all this. Do you feel… Like it’s going where you want it to go ?”

Kenma’s first instinct was to say “I don’t know what you mean by that”, but they did, and they clamped their mouth shut, lest their answer went through their lips before they’d fully thought about it. “I’m… happy being Shouyou’s friend,” they carefully said, treading on ice so thin they felt a wrong move would break it, and they’d sink under the surface, swallowed up by cold water, unable to get out. “I wanna keep being friends with them. I think… yeah.”

“Alright,” Kuro said, but he still looked unconvinced, and Kenma felt an uneasy feeling spread from their fingertips to their heart and their head.

“I washed my blouse for the art gallery we’re going to,” they blurted. “I wanna… I wanna make this work.”

“Good kitty,” Kuro said, and this time, finally, he let out a small laugh, mood brightening enough for the tense atmosphere to lighten up.

Saturday came far too quickly. Days seemed to zoom past Kenma unbridled, classes after classes and terrible meals one after the other. Neither them nor Lev were good cooks, and a little selfishly, Kenma thought of seeing Shouyou more if it meant eating the delicious food he was able to make. At ten in the morning, Kenma heard a knock on their door, and they knew it was Shouyou, Lev being still in the shower.

“Coming !” they said, and they looked at their reflection one last time. Their roots were starting to show, after the bleach job they’d done just before the university year started, but they were used to it, and usually, it didn’t matter to them, but this time, they wondered – would Shouyou find it weird that they didn’t bother with the upkeep? Their blouse was a red, flowy material, and the little ivory buttons made it look like pearls were keeping it in place. They had opted for a dark wash pair of jeans, black shoes, and no hat or jacket, since the weather had been steadily warming up.

It was one of the first time in their life were, instead of wondering “Do I stand out?” they wondered, “Do I look good?”, and they were not sure they liked this new development. Dressing up for something was a rarity, dressing up for a friend was a complete novelty, and maybe they’d been underestimating how much this newfound relationship meant to them.

When Kenma finally opened the door, they felt their breath leave their body, and they had to take a shuddering inhale. Shouyou was not dressed more formally than usual, but he’d combed his hair a certain way, he’d picked a pair of shoes that didn’t look worn out, and the green sweater he was wearing brought out his eyes so well – Kenma smiled weakly, and whispered, “Hi”.

“Hi Kenma !” Shouyou said, having noticed none of Kenma’s disarray, “Ready to party ?”

“We’re going to an art gallery, I’m not really sure that counts as a rave,” Kenma remarked, and Shouyou giggled, a cute little sound that sent Kenma’s stomach twisting.

The art gallery was within walking distance of the university, so they didn’t bother with the bus, and instead enjoyed the scenery of Tokyo on a warm Saturday. People were busily making their way through the streets and once or twice, Kenma had to grab Shouyou’s sleeve not to get lost in the crowd. Soon though, Shouyou felt too hot in his sweater, and he took it out to reveal one of their university’s shirts, which were known to be inexpensive but really comfortable.

“I’m sorry this is taking so long,” Shouyou apologised, after they were forced once more to stop and let some people walk past them.

“It’s ok,” Kenma said, and they meant it. They hated crowds – Tokyo really was not a city made for people like them, but with Shouyou here, it was all right. What did that mean ? They also felt safer in a crowd with Kuro, but never with this particular flavour of novelty, of adventure. Kenma thought about it for a second, and remembered Kuro’s words – “It’s not a date if you don’t want it to be”, and they breathed deeply.

The art gallery was situated in a side street, and you wouldn’t have found it if you hadn’t been looking for it. It did not display many works of art, but they were carefully lit and the room had a certain unity to it, even though the colours of the paintings and sculptures sometimes clashed garishly. Kenma had never been a fan of modern art, and they’d sat through art history in high school because it would look good on their university application, but their interest was limited to a few pieces they’d enjoyed.

Shouyou, on the other hand, looked wide-eyed at everything, like he’d never seen anything so interesting before. He stopped in front of one of the paintings, vertical streaks of blue on an orange background, and he stayed there for a good few minutes, eyes scanning the canvas.

“Don’t you think it looks like a city in the desert ?” he eventually asked, not having noticed Kenma’s increasingly uncomfortable looks to the curator, who was eyeing them like a vulture.

“Hm, uh. Yeah, I can see it,” they said, and Shouyou’s whole face lit up.

 _Oh_ , Kenma thought. _Oh_.

The rest of the visit, on Kenma’s part, was spent looking at Shouyou. His face was so expressive, they’d never seen anything like it. Sometimes he looked sad, pensive and withdrawn, but at other times it was like his skin glowed from pure, raw excitement. His reaction to the works of art on display was, in Kenma’s opinion, way more interesting than the actual pieces.

A particularly sinuous rendition of a horse made Shouyou exclaim aloud that he’d never thought deer could look like that, which made Kenma giggle. “It’s a horse, look, it’s written right there.” they said, but Shouyou did not look deterred in the least.

“I think it looks more like a deer. It’s so… elegant,” he said. “You’re also elegant, Kenma. Well, in the more… lazy cat kind of way. You’re sharp underneath it all, though,”

The sentence came out of nowhere and Kenma did not know what to answer to that – they’d been compared to a cat a few too many times, with as many endearing stares as disdainful ones, and this fitted neither. It was like Shouyou had seen right through them, and had pierced through all the protection walls they’d surrounded themselves with, and had come up with the truth – the truth about who they really were, no masks, no games to hide their face behind.

Shouyou thanked the lady supervising the art gallery on their way out, and they walked back to their university to find a place to sit and have lunch. The bao were delicious, and Kenma closed their eyes in bliss at the first bite. The conversation that they had kept going throughout the morning came to a lull as they devoured their buns, and they only started speaking again after they’d finished them all.

“I had so much fun, Kenma !” Shouyou said. His eyes were half closed from the good meal they’d just had, and he looked contented – like a cat under a warm patch of sunlight, ironically. “It was one of the best times of my life.”

“Me too,” Kenma said, and they felt, as they said it, that the words soared out of their mouth and spread their wings, ready to take flight, “We should do that more often.”

In a moment of clarity, Kenma knew that they’d made their choice, like Akaashi had made his, like Morisuke had made his. It was not a choice out of fear, it was not a choice out of defiance, but a simple thank you to the world for having sent sunshine their way, and a vow to try and never let it go.

Shouyou said goodbye soon after that, having a lot of homework to catch up on, and Kenma slowly made their way back to their dorm, feeling warmth in their chest.

They woke up on the following day much earlier than they’d liked, to someone repeatedly knocking on their door.

“Rise and shine, beautiful!” Kuro’s voice came through the door. “You promised you’d come with me, remember?”

“No,” Kenma lied, but they spoke too quietly for Kuro to hear. They had indeed promised Kuro they’d go to the sports shop with him, to help he and Koutarou decide on “which pair of shoes will make me the ace, c’mon Kenma, you know your shit, and you know I have no clue what brands make these days!”

They dragged themself to the bathroom, brushed their teeth, and put on the comfiest pair of sweatpants they owned, which happened to be the Nekoma sweatpants they’d all ordered before graduation. Still in the same T-shirt they’d slept in, Kenma opened the door to an excited couple of tall dudes way too interested in volleyball for their own good.

“You don’t even play academically anymore, Kuro, why are you making me do this…”

“Because you love me and I bribed you with apple pie,” Kuro said gaily.

“Fuck me up,” Kenma sighed, and he followed his friends to the sports store. It was pretty far – they had to take the subway, and Kenma winced all throughout the trip, some old lady’s handbag poking him uncomfortably in the ribs. When they got out from underground, they had to brace themselves against the throngs of people crowding the street, until eventually, they reached the store.

It was several stories high and the volleyball section was on the top floor, so they took the elevator, Kuro and Koutarou making up a silly dance to the music that was playing softly in the background.

“C’mon Kenma, you’re no fun,” Koutarou said when they wouldn’t dance.

The smell of Air Salonpas was so strong when the door opened, that Kenma had to take a moment to get used to it again. It awoke memories of tournaments, when the air was saturated with the smell of sweat, deodorant and something uniquely attached to the leather of old volleyballs.

The trio made their way to the back shelves, where the shoes were displayed. Garish, neon, pastel, every colour combination imaginable was displayed in front of them. Koutarou immediately grabbed a neon yellow pair, and showed them to Kenma like an excited puppy, but Kenma wordlessly pointed at the price tag, which immediately put a damper on Koutarou’s excitement. “Let’s do this methodically,” they sighed, and they started by looking at the price, ignoring Koutarou when he piped in to say he’d found a student job, and that he could and would spend all of his savings if he had to.

“Koutarou, you got in on a scholarship,” Kenma reminded him. “You gotta buy your textbooks first.”

“Wah, I can’t hear what you’re saying.” Koutarou sing-sang, but he sobered up and once more, Kenma was surprised by how someone so usually ditzy could laser-focus on something so easily.

“These sound good,” Kenma said after a little while. The shoes were pink and green, and the price was reasonable. “These too.” and they pointed at red and blue shoes, ever so slightly different from the first pair.

“Gotta try them on now !” Koutarou exclaimed.

“Oh ho ho,” Kuro wiggled his eyebrows, “doing a little fashion show ?”

“Bro, you know the way to my heart,” Koutarou said, batting his eyelashes.

“Shut up, you two,” Kenma quipped, but they were smiling.

Koutarou’s feet were apparently too big, or the sizing of the brands were off the mark, because they had to come back to the shelves and ask a sales attendant to bring in another pair of each. While they waited, Kuro and Koutarou wandered around, looking at the different brands of tape and wristbands, and Kenma felt increasingly aware of the eyes turning to the loud duo. They eventually wandered out of view, and Kenma chose to remain behind, sitting on one of the benches they had around. A little kid started kicking his shoes into Kenma’s bench, and eventually, the repeated thud became too much to bear.

“Please, can you-” they started saying, but someone interrupted them.

“Kenma ? What are you doing here ?”

Shouyou was peeking out from another row of shelves, and he smiled brightly at the little kid, who hesitantly smiled back.

“I’m with people,” Kenma answered, and the unease they felt each time Kuro or Koutarou took them to the sports store seemed to amplify tenfold. "They're buying shoes and shirts.”

That was as much as they would comfortably give out, but the lack of precision didn’t seem to bother Shouyou, who waddled around the largest display of wristbands and sat next to Kenma.

“You don’t play, right?” he said, cautiously for some reason. “We talked about it before.”

“I don’t play,” Kenma acquiesced. “Kuro does sometimes.”

“Ah, ok…” Shouyou said, pensive. “So you don’t know anything about which shoes I could buy…”

“Sorry,” Kenma said, and they felt like their lie was so obvious – who would believe that? – but Shouyou merely nodded, and they were reminded of the colour of his soulmark. Blue, which could mean trust, tranquility, peace of mind. Shouyou trusted them.

Suddenly, Kenma felt like words bubbled inside their throat, and they had to swallow them back bitterly. What would they even say? “I played because Kuro made me do it. I didn’t hate it, but I didn’t like it either. It was nice being in a group, but I couldn’t stand the pressure of competitive playing after high school.” How would Shouyou react to this? He was obviously so passionate about volleyball, so obsessed with it that Kenma felt every effort he made not to talk about it when they were together and the subject came up – it seemed like treason to admit that they’d tried, and failed, at getting the same interest in it as him. _I wish I’d known you when I still played_ , they thought, and their throat tightened uncomfortably, like they were about to cry, like they would scream out the truth if only they had the courage to do so. Instead, they heard themselves say, “Are you here alone?”

“Nah, I’m with Kageyama and Yahaba, they also play. We’re friends.”

Kenma understood that “friends” meant “teammates”, but then they realised, seeing the stars in Shouyou’s eyes, that he truly considered them friends. Would he consider Kenma a friend if he knew? Would he be offended? Thin lines of friendship were being sown in the tapestry of their life, and Kenma would hate for it all to unravel.

“Oh, gotta go,” Shouyou said when his phone started ringing angrily, with the tune of an anime Kenma distantly recognised as being about sports of some kind. “It was nice seeing you, Kenma !”

He seemed to hesitate, hands hovering close to their shoulder, before deciding against whatever impulse he first had and waving goodbye. He left without turning back.

A few moments later, Kuro and Koutarou were back, and Kenma swallowed the bitter taste in their mouth to ask them if they found anything. They went to the self checkout, and Koutarou insisted on buying one energy bar, because “you never know, maybe I’ll need energy soon, shopping is exhausting”. Kenma spent the way back to their dorms lost in thought, answering with monosyllables whenever asked a question, and eventually, their paths split, Kuro and Koutarou being in another building.

“See you later, kitten,” Kuro said with a worried look – he’d gathered something happened at the store, but probably didn’t want to ask what it was exactly while Koutarou was still here. “Stay in touch, right? Don’t leave me hanging.”

“I rarely do.” Kenma said without any bite.


	8. birthday fun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i SWEAR i have it all written down and i'll try my best to update more regularly........ thanks so much for sticking up with me !!!! your kudos and comments mean the world
> 
> ALSO PLEASE READ THIS there's a description of a panic attack, be careful if that's not what you can handle rn

If there was one thing Shouyou hadn’t planned on being, well, a thing, it was his birthday. In elementary school, he’d had no real friends to invite over, and he’d spent the day smiling as wide as he could until he broke down in tears at the moment of blowing out the candles. In middle school, the few friends who came were dear to him, but they hadn’t made a big deal out of it – a few presents, chocolate cake, and parents coming to pick them up at five. High school had been a big change – for once, he’d had friendships that he felt could last through thick and thin. He’d only invited Kageyama, Yachi and Yamaguchi to his birthdays, but they remained golden-hued memories in his brain, and the little they’d done (blow out the candles together, exchange some presents), had seemed like so much at the time.

So when his teammates asked him what he was going to do for his birthday and he answered “Sleepover in Kageyama’s dorm, probably,” he wasn’t expecting their looks of dismay.

“Bro. Bro, listen. You have to do something big. You’re turning eighteen !” Bokuto said, putting his hands on Shouyou’s shoulders. “It’s a very important moment in a man’s life.”

“You can vote now,” Ushijima said sternly.

Bokuto turned to him with a frown. “Don’t be a party pooper, Wakatoshi, that’s totally not what I meant !”

“He means alcohol,” Yahaba smirked, and Shouyou let out a groan.

“But I don’t like alcohol !”

“We do !” Kamasaki, one of the middle blockers, said enthusiastically. “Invite us over and we’ll drink it for you !”

“I’m really not doing anything, guys, please,” Shouyou said apologetically, “my dorm is too tiny to fit all of us in and the RA won’t let me have a party in the kitchen area, I’m sure.”

“Damn, that sucks.” Kamasaki said, and then Coach called, so the topic was dropped for the time being.

“You know…” Shouyou said hours later to Yamaguchi and Tsukishima, “I could make a small thing with Kenma. I’ll ask them to come bake something with me.”

“Sure,” Tsukishima said sarcastically. “You, baking a cake. For a party perhaps ?”

“Actually…” Shouyou mused. “You could help. I know nothing about European cakes but you do, right, since your parents had that bakery back in Miyagi.”

Tsukishima shot him his most unimpressed look. “You want me to help you set up a party.”

“No, it’s just for me and a friend.”

“Yeah, that mysterious ‘Kenma’ you keep talking about,” Tsukishima said to Shouyou.

He saw Yamaguchi wince at those words, and understood that he hadn’t told Tsukishima about them, which Shouyou was grateful about – he wasn’t sure he wanted Tsukishima’s scalding input on someone who was quickly becoming so important to him.

“Come grocery shopping with me and maybe I’ll tell you about them,” Shouyou taunted, but he didn’t expect Tsukishima to answer with a “Yeah, whatever, I’ll text you a time tomorrow”, and he smiled, a little unsettled.

Later that day, Shouyou remembered that he had one other person to warn about that party of two he’d be making next Saturday.

**To: kenma**

_hey wanna come bake apple pie with me on saturday????????_

**To: kenma**

_a friend who knows cakes is giving me the recipe!!!!!!_

The answer was immediate.

**From: kenma**

_(_ _๑✪_ _ᆺ✪_ _๑_ _)_

**To: kenma**

_i’ll take that as a yes!!!!!!!!_

Shouyou smiled to his phone, happy to see Kenma again so soon. They’d already spent last Saturday together, and now, they’d be seeing each other a week later – it felt so good, to have that anchor in his week. Kinda like volleyball.

Being friends with Kenma evoked the same feelings in him as his early rivalry with Kageyama, when everything felt like a dare and a challenge, when even minute actions like “who can get the most gigantic bite out of his meatbun” or “who can burp the loudest” seemed like such a big deal. When he was with Kenma, Shouyou felt that spark – though they hadn’t competed on anything, and weren’t planning to do so anytime soon, being with Kenma was like static running through his fingertips.

Now, Kageyama and him had mellowed down in their friendship, and growing up had helped plenty – as well as maturing into adults, they’d known defeat and regret, that they wouldn’t let happen again. 

Yeah, maybe that was it. Shouyou never wanted to regret anything when it came to Kenma.

That night, he took hours and hours to fall asleep, tossing and turning in his bed as quietly as possible so he wouldn’t wake Yachi up, looking at his phone screen and hoping against all odds that he’d get a message from Kenma, no matter that it was two in the morning and that he’d said goodnight ages ago. When the sun rose up, dawn painting the sky with her pink fingertips, Shouyou finally fell asleep, dreaming of that tall, tall wall crumbling, and Kenma’s sharp eyes on the other side.

Shouyou woke up from a text he’d been expecting.

**From: stingyshima**

_This afternoon at 5, left entrance._

Curt as always, he sighed, and he answered that he’d be there. Tsukishima and him didn’t have common classes today, which was why he’d felt necessary to set a time for their meet-up. The day seemed to drone on and on and on, each teacher as boring as the last, speaking in a monotone and trying to dazzle unimpressed students with social sciences research tools that, apparently, would be of use later on in their academic career.

At five in the afternoon, finally, Shouyou exited his last class and walked up to the left entrance of the campus, which was the closest to the convenience store. Tsukishima was already there, headphones on and eyes shut, head swaying to a beat only he could hear. Shouyou took a few seconds to look at him, having so rarely the occasion to do so unobserved.

Tsukishima was tall, but Shouyou had learned not to resent that anymore. He was thin, too, but he had muscles hidden in those noodle arms, as Yamaguchi liked to call them. His glasses were not the volleyball kind anymore, and Shouyou found it kind of sad – he really liked those. They’d meant something – Tsukishima finally giving it his all in volleyball, and the only times they’d gotten on together without squabbling.

Well, Shouyou guessed, maybe today was another step in the right direction.

“Hello, hello, Earth to Tsukishima,” he said, poking him in the ribs.

Tsukishima’s eyes snapped open and his startled expression quickly changed into an unamused frown. He sighed, and motioned for Shouyou to follow him. 

“I got you this.” he said, handing Shouyou a scrap of paper torn from one of Tsukishima’s many notebooks. This one has a cute border of paw prints, and Shouyou once more wondered when he’d last be surprised by something Tsukishima did.

“Thanks, Tsukishima!”

“Don’t be so happy on a Wednesday,” Tsukishima snapped, but without real heat.

Shouyou only smiled wider, and they started walking towards the store. Tsukishima always walked with purpose, steps so calculated Shouyou felt like they could be used as a new measuring unit. His own walking style was more haphazard, and they clashed especially hard on days like this, when Shouyou was so excited he could barely stand still.

“What are you on about, Hinata?” Tsukishima ended up asking him.

“Y’know, it’s like, my birthday tomorrow, so I thought I could make something nice with a friend of mine, and then sleep at Kageyama’s dorm and bring the leftovers. I don’t know, it sounded like a good idea.” Shouyou smiled uneasily – he hated having to explain his own happiness, like somehow putting words on it made it more mundane. “Gwaah” and other onomatopoeias explained his feelings much better, but he knew Tsukishima wouldn’t appreciate being told that baking a cake with a friend felt like spiking a really good toss.

“Your… your what now ?”

“My birthday, Tsukishima,” Shouyou patiently explained.

“I didn’t know you were born in June.”

Shouyou paused at that. Truth be told, he’d never invited Tsukishima directly to his birthday parties during high school (he left to Yamaguchi the power of asking Tsukishima to come or not, and apparently he hadn’t), but teammates and classmates had wished him a happy birthday when they saw him.

“Well, you must have really disliked me in high school, I guess,” Shouyou concluded.

At those words, Tsukishima stopped walking entirely, surprising Shouyou who had to go back a few steps to be level with him again. 

“You think I dislike you,” Tsukishima repeated. “You think – you think we’re not friends ?”

“Well, duh,” Shouyou answered. “You’re always like, ‘Make less noise ! Be quiet ! You’re stupid !’, so I thought that you didn’t, like. Think of us as particularly close. I’m not sure you ever said something very very nice to me outside of volleyball.”

“That’s not how friendship works, Hinata-”

“Friends don’t usually act this cold with each other. Just a thought,” Shouyou said, and he started walking again.

Tsukishima followed, and when he glanced at him from the corner of his eye, Shouyou saw his forehead creased with deep thought. Eventually, Tsukishima grumbled something like “I didn’t mean it like that,” but Shouyou chose not to answer.

He’d had a conversation with Yamaguchi once – at one of their sleepovers, some time during their second year. “Why doesn’t Tsukishima liked me ?”, Shouyou had asked, and Yamaguchi had looked very uneasy, and hesitated a lot before answering.

“You’re too much like what he thinks someone good should be,” he eventually said, and Shouyou had taken months and months to figure out what that meant, though he still wasn’t sure of his conclusions.

When they arrived at the store, Shouyou got the scrap of paper out of his pocket, and started looking at the ingredients. 

“Apples, sugar, butter, cinnamon, that’s the filling,” he read aloud. “And for the pie crust, flour, butter, salt, sugar, water.”

“That’s about it, yeah,” Tsukishima said.

“Let’s go, then !”

About half an hour later, they were out of the store, Shouyou having bought several bottles of ramune and a few bags of his favourite KitKat flavour on top of the pie ingredients, something that seemed to evoke in Tsukishima feelings of great unease.

They walked together until they reached the dorms, where their paths differed. Shouyou said his goodbye, and waited for Tsukishima to do the same, but he remained silent, forehead creased once more.

“Hinata…” he ended up saying. Curious, Shouyou didn’t prompt him to continue, but he waited for the rest of the sentence. “You know I don’t hate you, right?”

“Yeah,” Shouyou lied. He felt – he felt it was more appropriate to say this, than have to explain three years of high school spent walking on eggshells around Tsukishima, never knowing if he stayed in the volleyball club out of pure spite, or for Yamaguchi’s sake, or if he even liked any of them at all.

“You’re obviously lying,” Tsukishima said, deadpan. “I really don’t hate you. It’s. It’s complicated,” he added. “I can’t really explain it in two minutes.”

“It’s ok, Tsukishima,” Shouyou said comfortingly. “You have plenty of time, right ?”

“I guess so,” Tsukishima answered, and he walked away, lost deep in his thoughts.

Carrying his two bags filled to the brim with cooking supplies, Shouyou hastily walked to his dorm, dropping everything on his bed unceremoniously, hands red from holding onto the straps.

“What’s that for?” Yachi asked, and when he told her about inviting Kenma to a little baking session, she immediately brightened up. “I’ll be out all day anyway !” she said, “I won’t bother you !”

“You’re never a bother, Yachi, oh my god,” Shouyou said, but he hugged her maybe a little too tight.

Shouyou’s birthday seemed to be over in the time it took to blink. Volleyball practice was punctuated by people spiking balls in his direction, yelling “For the birthday boy !” as he did his best to receive them. Kageyama said he would be late for his gift, which surprised no one. Bokuto got him the newest “ace” shirt that he’d seen on the volleyball website they liked to check out, and Yachi got him a pack of game cartridges for his DS. Yamaguchi hugged him and whispered in his ear that Tsukishima had a little surprise from the both of them, but that it’d take some time still. 

Shouyou felt like he was on a cloud, a feeling which lasted all through the end of the week. At ten in the morning on Saturday, Kenma knocked on his door, and Shouyou, who had been vibrating with excitement ever since he woke up, was up and ready in less time than it takes to blink.

“Kenma !” he exclaimed, barely able to contain his joy. “I’m so glad you could come !”

“I did say I would…” Kenma said, but they smiled a little, and dropped their coat on Shouyou’s bed, before the both of them headed to the kitchen area.

Baking shenanigans are often depicted in movies as being cute, funny, and the result is always a little too shiny considering the mess that produced it. Shouyou has seen that kind of movie with Natsu and his mum — the couple play fights with flour, they smear a dollop of batter on their beloved’s nose and they laugh like kids.

“Baking with Shouyou”, on the other hand, should be an internationally broadcasted TV show. First, he lost the recipe in the sea of post-it notes plastered on the communal fridge. Then, he managed to forget about powdered sugar and used granulated, which resulted in the dough being a little… on the firm side. Then, Kenma cut their finger slicing up the apples, and Shouyou almost cried as he applied a little pink plaster on the wound, which was bleeding profusely.

Eventually, the apple slices were arranged on the dish, dollops of butter ended up not on someone’s nose but on top of the apples, and Shouyou liberally sprinkled the slices with brown sugar. Then, Kenma rolled out the dough on top of the mixture, and they put it in the oven at 180 degrees Celsius. “Only about half an hour,” Tsukishima had said, so Shouyou got his handy-dandy phone and set an alarm for the due time.

“Should we go back to my room?” Shouyou asked after a few minutes of watching the dough slowly brown up.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Kenma answered, and they left a note on the oven saying the pie was theirs, before hurrying up to Shouyou’s dorm and plopping down on the carpet. He excitedly showed Kenma his new DS games, which were all more obscure than the last — somehow, Kenma knew about them all, but still, Shouyou felt like it took some serious skills. 

“Were these a present?” Kenma said, rifling through the cartridges once more, selecting the ones they were most eager to play.

“Yeah,” Shouyou said offhandedly, “my birthday was on Thursday,”

Something in the air immediately shifted. Where it had been warm and cozy a few seconds ago, the atmosphere was now colder than the North Pole, and Shouyou looked at Kenma anxiously, worried he’d said something wrong.

“Kenma ?” he asked after a few too many seconds of silence. “Are you ok ?”

“I…” they tried to finish the sentence, but instead, they produced a high pitched whistling sound — trying to catch their breath and failing. They started the sentence again, and again, but they couldn’t seem to finish.

 _Oh gosh_ , Shouyou thought, _they’re having a panic attack_. Fuck. What did he do? Had he done something wrong? Everything seemed to go so well, but maybe, just maybe, Kenma had a trigger he didn’t know about, and he’d mentioned it carelessly, and he’d spoiled everything with this stupid mistake, fuck, what did he do wrong? 

Was there a way to fix it?

“Shouyou,” Kenma eventually managed to say. “Shouyou, I’m not feeling well.”

“Ok, ok, Kenma, just breathe. Can you do that?” he said. There were more important questions than what he’d done wrong, for now, he just had to fix his dumb mistake. “Ok, Kenma, you know the 54321 technique, right?”

“Y-yeah,” Kenma nodded.

“Oh, good, good,” Shouyou spoke too quickly, even he noticed it, but he was starting to panic himself. “Five things you can see, just,” he tentatively lowered Kenma’s hands from their face (when had they gone up ? Was Kenma on the floor now ? Why was everything going so fast ?), “just tell me five things you can see.”

“I can see your face,” Kenma said weakly, breaths still making that horrible whistling sound. “I can see the fairy lights, the carpet… your hair, and. I can see- I can see the sky through the window.”

“You’re doing amazing, Kenma, now,” Shouyou said a little more calmly, “name four things you can touch.”

“My socks, my T-shirt, my necklace, your hand,” they let out. Shouyou hadn’t even realised that he was still holding Kenma’s hand after lowering it from their face, but when he tried to let go, Kenma’s fingers only tightened around his, and he grasped them a little more firmly instead.

“That’s good Kenma, you’re doing great. Can you tell me three things you can hear?”

“I can hear birds outside the window. And, uh… I can hear my breath. I’m breathing so loud, ah, Shouyou, I’m so-”

“Don’t say that,” Shouyou cut them before they could finish. “It’s ok, Kenma, everything is ok. I’m not mad, no one got hurt, everything’s fine. You still have one more thing to say, tell me one more thing you can hear.”

“I can hear- I can hear your voice.”

“Good, Kenma, that’s good. Two things you can smell, now, it’s almost over, look, your breathing has calmed down a lot !”

“I can smell the apple pie,” Kenma said, and their breathing evened out as they spoke, like the smell was deeply comforting. “I can smell your shampoo.”

“Hehe, do you like it ?” Shouyou asked jokingly, and he smiled when Kenma nodded. “You’re almost done now Kenma, breathe, everything’s ok. One thing you can taste, and then it’s over.”

“I can taste-” and Shouyou knew what they were going to say before they stopped themselves from saying it — they tasted their own bitter saliva. “I can taste the apple slice I ate,” they said instead. 

Shouyou heaved a relieved sigh. “Good job Kenma,” he said, holding onto their fingers a little tighter. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah,” they answered, but Shouyou could feel another feeling replace the panic they’d just felt — intense guilt over having someone be there during a moment of crisis.

That was something he himself had had to battle with. What do you do when you can’t avoid people seeing you at your worst ? What is there to say to reassure them that you’re ok, you’ll be ok, and that it’s not their fault, but maybe sometimes it kind of is ? There was a bitter taste in Shouyou’s own mouth, the after-effect of witnessing someone he cared about crumbling down.

“I didn’t know it was your birthday,” Kenma said quietly. “I would have done something.”

“We’re doing something, though,” Shouyou said. “We’re baking apple pie and spending time together.”

“I could have made you something worth it,” Kenma whispered so quietly Shouyou wasn’t sure he was meant to hear it. “Damn, I really suck at being a soulmate.”

“Oh no.” Shouyou definitely couldn’t let that go. “Don’t you ever say that. You’re the best soulmate I could have asked for,” he blurted out, and he found while saying the words that he really meant them. Kenma was someone he was so deeply interested in, who obviously made huge efforts to meet Shouyou in the middle — that was better than he’d ever hoped.

“Really ?” Kenma said. But then, knowing the answer wasn’t one they wanted to hear, they added, “please, tell me, next time. I wanna make you happy on your birthday, that’s the least I can do.”

Shouyou smiled as wide as he could. Kenma had said “next time”, but there wouldn’t be any next time before next year, which meant that they’d still be in contact by then ! It felt like such a big step, to say things like that so casually, and when he saw Kenma answer with their own secretive smile, he knew that the blunt of the crisis had passed.

Suddenly, his phone started beeping.

“Apple pie is ready !” Shouyou jumped up, and he started to walk towards the kitchen, Kenma still clutching his hand. 

“How did you know it was my favourite food ?” they asked.

“Wah, is it ? I had no idea !” Shouyou laughed. “I just wanted to make something fancy to impress you. My friend Tsukishima gave me the recipe.”

“That’s nice,” Kenma said.

The next few minutes were spent in silence, Kenma opening the over door ceremoniously while Shouyou, kitchen mittens on, got the dish out and set it on the table. It smelled really good, even though Shouyou only now realised he’d forgotten to add cinnamon. After digging for a few minutes in the cupboards, he found a little candle, that he lit using the match box someone had left unsupervised on the counter.

“Happy birthday, Shouyou,” Kenma murmured as he blew it out, and this time, their smile reached their eyes, making them crinkle beautifully.

Shouyou thought distractedly that it was the first time he’d seen Kenma smile so genuinely, without any care about how improper it may look. His eyes were half shut, but you could still see a little of their amber colour, and their cheeks had taken a rosy hue that suited their caramel skin so perfectly Shouyou almost regretted he didn’t have a camera on hand.

They were kind of like an early birthday present, he thought, and he smiled at the idea that the universe, who had not always been so gentle, would allow him this moment of pure delight.

The pie was delicious, and they would have finished the whole dish if Shouyou hadn’t wanted to keep one slice for Kageyama, and another for Tsukishima and Yamaguchi. Kenma got crumbs on their cheeks from eating so fast, and Shouyou brushed them off carefully, knowing his own face wasn’t in a much better state. Satiated and content, they walked back to Shouyou’s dorm, deciding to let the dishwasher do all the work without checking if the pan was dishwasher safe. Oh well, Shouyou thought, it wasn’t like he couldn’t buy one back.

At seven, Shouyou’s phone rang, indicating that it was time to go to Kageyama’s dorm. Kenma had been absorbed in finishing one of the DS games, and they raised their head almost sleepily from where it lay on Shouyou’s shoulder. They’d both almost fallen into a sugar-induced coma, barely talking apart from when Kenma needed assistance on the game’s puzzles. They gathered their stuff, a hoodie for Kenma and a little sleepover bag for Shouyou, and they exited the dorm just as Yachi came back in, her cheeks flaming red.

“I’ll tell you about it later,” she whispered to Shouyou as they passed by each other. “Have fun !”

“Have fun,” Kenma said as well when their paths split. “Happy birthday, Shouyou.”

Shouyou got to Kageyama’s dorm just as it started raining, and he was grateful for the cover of the trees while he walked up to the building. Kageyama opened the door with a pinched face, and Shouyou frowned, but the cause of it was soon revealed, and it turned Shouyou’s frown into a snicker.

“Cinny, what are you even doing here !” he said, immediately crouching down in front of a large cage that took up all of the empty space on Sugawara’s side of the room. “Dude, you know animals are forbidden in the dorms, right ?” he added for Kageyama.

“Go tell that to Koushi,” he grumbled. “Apparently, he managed to get her in as an emotional support animal.”

ESAs were allowed in the dorms at one condition — they had to not be cats. Shouyou thought it made sense, because how would you repair every single scratch mark, but… Cinnamon being an ESA left him a little skeptical.

“Are you sure rats can be emotional support animals ?” he asked Kageyama, who merely shrugged and started to dig in Shouyou’s bag.

“Where’s the pie ?” Kageyama eventually asked, face taking on an unimpressed look. “You forgot it at your dorm, didn’t you.”

“Heck no I didn’t, you just totally missed it,” Shouyou proudly said as he took out a tupperware wrapped in his pyjama shirt.

“Neat,” was Kageyama’s answer, and he grabbed a fork from nowhere and started digging in. “Hm, it’d be better hot,” he commented, but he still ate the whole serving diligently, while Shouyou rambled about all the new games Yachi got for his DS, and how Kenma was so so nice they panicked about not having a present.

Kageyama’s frown returned. “You didn’t tell them it was your birthday ?”

“Well, no, I forgot about it,” Shouyou said sheepishly. “Shit, I forgot to ask for theirs, lemme just send a quick text.”

“You’ll do that later,” Kageyama decided. “Now is present time.”

Shouyou would be lying if he said he hadn’t been waiting for Kageyama’s present with as much excitement as his body could contain. Last year, he’d gotten him his volleyball shoes, and the year before that, a yearly subscription to his favourite volleyball magazine.

“It’s not much,” Kageyama started by saying, “but uh. Koushi said you’d like it.”

“He has better taste than you do,” Shouyou teased, but he had no doubt the present would be thoughtful.

The first thing Shouyou noticed was that the wrapping paper had little doodles and messages on it. “Careful with those, don’t tear it all off,” Kageyama warned, and Shouyou looked closer at all the scribbling, which turned out to be…

“Oh,” Shouyou said softly, and he felt tears well in his eyes. The writings on the paper were messages from former high school teammates, as well as some of their current ones, and they’d all left a little note wishing him a happy birthday, and many more good volleyball related things to come.

“It’s late because my mum had to send it from Miyagi and I only got it yesterday.” Kageyama said, and when he saw Shouyou make no move to open the gift, he gently nudged at him.

Taking as much precaution as possible with the wrapping paper, Shouyou managed to extract a book from the package. It was, as he discovered when he opened it, a photo album. It contained pictures from high school, mostly volleyball related, and…

“There’s space left at the end,” Shouyou said, trying really hard not to cry. “There’s space left for our uni team and beyond.”

“Yeah,” and Kageyama looked really proud of himself. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I’ll have to thank everyone…”

Rubbing furiously at his eyes and claiming his allergies (that he didn’t have) had kicked up, Shouyou closed the book and lunged at Kageyama, hugging him quickly before letting go. They both looked equally uncomfortable, unable to express how much it means to them to be here and to share this moment, which was quickly ended by Shouyou’s phone loudly beeping.

“Oh gosh,” he groaned, “I don’t wanna answer.”

“Yeah you do,” Kageyama said with a smirk, something he had mastered way quicker than the smile.

“Ugh, ok, I’ll take a look.”

The caller ID said “Incognito”, which did not reassure Shouyou much, but he clicked on the “accept” button and raised the phone to his ear.

“Hi ?” he said, suspicious.

“You dumbass !” a voice answered. “It’s a video call ! Don’t you know how to use WhatsApp ?”

“Natsu !” Shouyou yelled, and he looked at his screen, where a live video of his little sister was up. “You little shit ! You planned all this !”

“Well, duh,” and she seemed genuinely content, “who d’you think got the idea in the first place ?”

“You’ve been communicating with Kageyama _behind my back_? Holy crap, and I thought you’d forgotten about my birthday !”

“Nah, I’m not as stupid as you are,” she said. “Did you like the picture of you drooling I took at the Halloween party?”

“Oh no, you didn’t,” Shouyou threatened, but Kageyama had already flipped through the photo album and found it. “Nooo, Natsu ! I trusted you !”

“It’s not on Facebook, at least,” she said, though knowing her, it truly might have been.

“Ugh,” Shouyou said again. “Why do I even love you.” 

“Because I’m the best little sister in the whole wide world !” Natsu smirked. She was, in fact, quoting something Shouyou had said when they were younger, when she’d offered to call him “big brother” instead of “sister”. Shouyou had cried for an hour, and she never stopped teasing him about it.

They talked a little, exchanging news on their daily lives, while Kageyama provided scalding commentary on all of Shouyou’s various volleyball mistakes. When their mother called for Natsu to come down for dinner, they ended the call on one more little jab, and Shouyou pressed the red button. He flopped down on the carpet, content, and turned his gaze towards Kageyama.

“It’s. Nice. That you could, uh,” Kageyama started saying, but the words didn’t seem like they’d come out easily. “It’s nice you could get a normal friend.”

“I know exactly what you mean by that,” Shouyou sighed, “but dude, there’s like, one thousand better ways to phrase it.”

“Ah yeah ? Do it then !”

“You could say, uh, ‘Hinata, I’m glad you finally made a friend outside of volleyball’, something like that.”

“Ok, yeah, that works,” Kageyama said grumpily, “Nevermind.”

“Nah, I’m actually glad about it, y’know ? I haven’t had friends outside of the team since middle school. And I’ve barely even met any other trans person.”

“Are they… ok with it ? Do I, like, need to, uh,” Kageyama asked, obvious in his effort not to sound offensive.

“Calm down, Bakageyama ! Of course they’re cool with it. We’re not even dating, y’know.”

And they weren’t — no one said you couldn’t have a friend of some gender or another. But sometimes Shouyou did feel like being a trans man deprived him of that ease with which people built relationships, because no one really knew what to make of him. A boy in the girl’s dorm? Scandalous, but also, the university had refused to pair him up with another man, since his gender change was still pending, and single rooms were expensive as hell when you were here on a scholarship.

Kenma could understand though. How many times did they have to be called “a man in a dress”, or worse, before their skin toughened and they were able to resist the sheer vitriol of it all? What they had to endure, Shouyou didn’t know, but he guessed they’d had their fair share of mockery and “gentle rough housing”, as Shouyou’s middle school’s director phrased it.

Both exhausted by the week they’d had, Kageyama and Shouyou didn’t stay up really late, choosing instead to bundle up in Kageyama’s single bed like when they were first years in high school, and they talked about nothing but volleyball until they dropped into a deep sleep from the sheer exhaustion of it all. 

Shouyou woke up way before his Sunday morning alarm, which rang at eleven, and he enjoyed Kageyama’s peaceful breathing beside him, both too hot from their combined heat under the covers and too cold because of the partial lack of blanket, that Kageyama inevitably hogged.

He thought — fleetingly, and without remembering any of it later on — that maybe he’d found his place in the grand scheme of things. Maybe the puzzle pieces were finally grouping up into similarly coloured blobs, and he’d only have to complete the design to be… what would he even be ? Wasn’t he already happy ? Wasn’t he already working so hard to achieve his goals, and seeing the payoff ?

His eyes were closing again when the rays of sun filtering through the curtains eventually woke Kageyama up, and he groaned at the prospect of getting up. The photo album was still open on the picture of him drooling, and he smiled.

He would have many more memories to make.


	9. study groups are in season

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ngl i got emotional while writing this. here's to hoping you also feel that way !

Kenma woke up early on Sunday — so early that the sun wasn’t even up yet. They stayed in bed for a few minutes, hoping to fall back asleep, but thoughts whirled too fast in their head, so they eventually gave in and got up, trying not to wake Lev on their trip to the bathroom. It was probably a consequence of having eaten about a third of a quite large apple pie the day before, but they didn’t feel so good. Brushing their teeth did nothing to relieve the bitter taste in their mouth, and then they remembered — oh. Yeah. They’d panicked yesterday, and Shouyou had to deal with it. He managed to do so really well, to Kenma’s surprise, but… he shouldn’t have had to do it in the first place. Kenma was a grown up now, they could handle their own issues. They could handle the unpredictability of life.

Only when they couldn’t, but, that wasn’t supposed to happen when other people were around.

“Ngh, you’re already up?” a sleepy Lev muttered from his bed, before falling back asleep immediately.

Kenma got dressed quietly, grabbing a pair of noise cancelling headphones, their Ipod and a jacket, before they went out into the deserted corridor. Everything was so quiet that the noise cancelling property of the headphones wasn’t really of use, but as soon as they got out of the building, they heard the birds chirping, happy little trills greeting the rising sun. It reminded them of Shouyou, of his laugh, of his light-heartedness, and they turned up the volume of their song as high as it could go. 

Deciding that calming video game soundtracks definitely didn’t make it easier to breathe, they switched to a meditation podcast, and sat on a bench to try and re-center themself, wincing as the dewy surface of the wood diffused a cold sensation to their back. 

Kenma’s first idea, when something went wrong, was that _they_ were somehow the cause. Kuro always said this wasn’t true, and he always said that getting a second perspective on things would help them deal with the situation with the right mindset, but they didn’t know who to turn to. Calling upon Kuro for soulmate matters felt like high treason — they would never dare try and ask him what a soulmate should do. And really, they had no other friend whose advice they trusted. They’d lost contact with some, if not most, of their high school friends, not because they didn’t love them, but because inertia made it so that sending “catch up” texts was a near impossible task.

Maybe Morisuke could help… But then again, no, that seemed cruel. Lev was not to be counted on for delicateness, neither was Koutarou. Kenma felt truly alone in that moment, which wasn’t helped by the fact that everyone else was asleep. They remained on the bench for a good half an hour, until they got too bored and climbed the stairs back to their dorm.

Their phone rang, and they startled. It was a text message from the one person they’d been thinking about so much, and in spite of the worry they still held, they felt the knot in their throat loosen a little.

**From: shouyou**

_i had so much fun yesterday!!!!! we should definitely bake again together, kageyama ate all the pie and didn’t leave me any :((((_

**To: shouyou**

_shouyou……… you ate one third of it all by yourself………… you’re going to get sick_

**From: shouyou**

_i’ll have you know my record is 15 meat buns_

**To: shouyou**

_you’re incredible (_ _๑_ _°o°_ _๑_ _)_

Smiling, Kenma pocketed their phone, and they felt the rest of their lingering anxiety dissipate. Shouyou was obviously not deterred from spending time with them, which filled them with happiness. There was no reason to panic after all, no reason to think so hard about this. Maybe that was Shouyou’s secret — he didn’t think about all that soulmate stuff, he just… lived in the moment, without a constant feeling of impending doom at the idea his soulmate would turn out to be someone he didn’t like, someone who didn’t like him, someone with whom he just didn’t click.

Kenma could stand to learn from that. Maybe there was peace to be found in this.

**From: shouyou**

_kageyama is laughing at me ( ≧Д≦)_

**To: shouyou**

_what happened?_

**From: shouyou**

_he says i usually never make friends_

**From: shouyou**

_and i said, like, no!!!!! i have tons of friends!!!!!_

**From: shouyou**

_and he said, nah, they’re not friends, they’re teammates_

**From: shouyou**

_i don’t see the difference but apparently there’s one??????_

**To: shouyou**

_do you talk to people outside of the team?_

**From: shouyou**

_well there’s my high school friends_

**From: shouyou**

_they’re from the volleyball team_

**From: shouyou**

_ok i miiiiight see your point_

Kenma looked at their phone, a little puzzled. Didn’t Shouyou have friends ? This guy, Tobio, and his roommate Hitoka, seemed to be really close to him. 

**To: shouyou**

_do you not… see friends outside of volleyball?_

**From: shouyou**

_well uh i see tsukishima and yamaguchi in class. and i guess kageyama sometimes, and yachi, but that doesn’t count, we live in the same dorm_

And then, it clicked. Shouyou had a single-mindedness about him, a deeply entrenched passion for volleyball, that was nearly all-encompassing. He got up early on a Sunday, to do a morning jog, to be in good shape for his volleyball activities. No player Kenma knew did that, and they certainly hadn’t done it either while they still played. 

That kind of laser focus, that kind of devotion, tended to make one pretty lonely, unless you found someone who shared the same bizarre interest in what you were passionate about. Shouyou seemed to have found that in Kageyama, a friend, a teammate, someone on his level. 

Where did that leave Kenma? They were not really passionate about anything outside of video games, and even then, their enthusiasm paled in comparison to other people they knew. They had, or at least felt like they had nothing to offer to someone so bright and lively.

“That’s a thought pattern that will lead you nowhere,” Kuro said as soon as Kenma explained how they felt to him. “He seems to like you, for _you_ , right ? You don’t have to pretend to be someone else.”

Kenma nodded distractedly, too busy checking their phone which was vibrating furiously. Text after text from a panicked Shouyou lit his phone screen with blue, and they wondered what that was all about.

“Hey, don’t talk to the shrimp when you’re talking to me about the shrimp !” Kuro exclaimed.

He leaned over their shoulder, reading the messages at the same time as them.

**From: shouyou**

_i’m gonna fail eco_

**From: shouyou**

_i know it i’m just_

**From: shouyou**

_SO BAD AT MATHS_

**From: shouyou**

_numbers should be banned_

Kuro said nothing at first, and then let out a small, “Huh.”

“What,” Kenma deadpanned. “What did your stupid brain think of this time ?”

“Ok, first of all, don’t call me stupid when you know I’m clearly the one with all the brains in this relationship,” Kuro said, and Kenma snorted. “Secondly, that sounds like something Bo could fix. Right ?”

Kenma thought about the idea — Koutarou, who had an unusual way of learning, was currently in a scholarship studying applied mathematics, and doing quite well at that. If someone could help Shouyou, it was probably him.

“Let’s say you’re right,” Kenma started.

“Oh sweetheart, you know I am,” Kuro said with mock condescension.

“When would Koutarou be free ?”

“Uh,” and Kuro looked at his watch, “he’s coming back here in… half an hour. And he’s homework-free for three days, so I assume tutoring your friend wouldn’t bother him.”

**To: shouyou**

_do you think tutoring would help? apparently my friend’s friend can do it today_

**From: shouyou**

_o(_ _；△；_ _)o_

**From: shouyou**

_kenmaaaaaa you’re the bestest ever_

After sending Shouyou the details of where Kuro’s dorm was and what material they had on hand for the exercises he’d have to do, Kenma dropped their phone in their bag and turned towards Kuro.

“You. You are forbidden from saying anything to Shouyou.”

“Kenma, dear, you wound me,” Kuro dramatically said, “I’m always kind ! And benevolent ! Why would you distrust me so ?”

“You are the devil,” Kenma replied. “I would not trust any food you offered, and I can and will blackmail you if convenient.”

“Gasp !” Kuro put a hand on his heart and pretended to be in agony, until Kenma’s small smile launched him into a fit of laughter.

That’s how Koutarou found them, snuggled up on Kuro’s bed, laughing periodically at videos from Kuro’s computer.

“You’re becoming a lap kitty,” he commented, and Kenma just raised their middle finger at him.

“Rude,” Bokuto said, but he ruffled their hair on the way to his bed.

A knock prevented him from saying more — Kuro got up, and opened the door on a very dishevelled Shouyou, messenger bag bursting with notes and pens, clothes in disarray like he’d just thrown on whatever landed in his hands.

“Am I late ?” he heaved. “Oh — hi, Bokuto-san !”

“You know him ?” Kenma asked, a little puzzled. And then it clicked, “oh right, you’re both on the volleyball team.”

“Hinata !” Koutarou yelled. “You didn’t tell me your soulmate was Kenma !”

“Woah ! The world is so tiny, right ?” Shouyou yelled right back.

“You,” Kenma sighed, “are not allowed to be this noisy while I’m here. Koutarou, work your magic.”

While he and Shouyou settled at Koutarou’s desk, Kuro gently ushered Kenma out of the room. It was better to be out when Koutarou got excited about something, they’d both learned, and they walked aimlessly around campus. Kuro wasn’t feeling really talkative, or maybe he was thinking about something – either way, Kenma let him start the conversation.

“You know…” Kuro started saying, but he remained silent for several minutes before continuing, “you seem kinda sad.”

“I’m not, I’m really not,” Kenma answered, as fast as they could. “I’m glad Shouyou can get some help.”

“That’s not what I was talking about and you know it.”

Kenma sighed. This conversation was probably long overdue, and Kuro must have thought about a hundred different ways of breaching this topic before he finally found this occasion.

“Kenma,” he said, “are you… actually happy about it all?”

“I am,” they adamantly replied. They were, they truly were – nothing justified feeling bitter as they sometimes did. “I just…”

“If this is about Akaashi-”

“No, please, Kuro. Don’t.”

“It needs to be said, Kenma!” he almost cried. “You shouldn’t sabotage your relationship with someone you like because something shitty happened to me.”

“I’m… I’m not, I promise,” Kenma whispered. _Then why haven’t you told Shouyou you played volleyball, why did you decide to be friends in the first place, why did you panic yesterday, why are you panicking_ _r_ _ight now_ – questions whirled so fast in their head they did not know what to answer. “I just wish you’d had this too, I guess.”

“Don’t think about me. Kenma, I’m your best friend, but that’s all I am.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” they snapped. “I would never pick anyone over you.”

“That’s not what I’m asking for though !” Kuro threw his hands up in the air, and then rubbed hard at his face, mussing up his bedhead even further. “Kenma, I don’t wanna be your first choice by default.”

“What the fuck are you trying to say ?!” Kenma felt his throat clog with unsaid words – _but I love you, you’re my best friend, I will never be able to replace our bond and even- even_ -

“I’m trying to tell you,” Kuro said brokenly, “that if you love him – if you truly do – you need to give it your all. You need to, Kenma.”

They didn’t answer, because the words simply wouldn’t come. Kuro rubbed at his face again, and Kenma noticed how red his eyes were.

“Don’t cry,” they muttered. “It makes you look stupid and you wail like a baby.”

“Shut up,” Kuro sniffled, but he smiled through his tears, and held Kenma’s hand tightly. “You’re my best friend, I know that won’t change. Give life a chance, though.”

When they came back to Kuro’s dorm, Koutarou and Shouyou were in the middle of a particularly difficult problem he had to solve for his class, and they sat in silence until Shouyou finally made it through, with a loud cheer and a high-five with Koutarou that Kenma felt resonate in their bones. Only then did Shouyou seem to notice they were back, and he rushed over to Kenma to grab their hands, like Kuro had just done.

“I can’t thank you enough !” he said, almost tearing up. “I’m not gonna fail !”

“I hope Koutarou wasn’t too…”

“He was per-fect!” Shouyou assured them. “Now I gotta go catch up on sleep, I’m dead on my feet.”

He seemed to hesitate – much like last time, but then, he briefly hugged Kenma, touch so light they almost didn’t feel it, and he was out the door in a flash. Koutarou was saying something about volleyball to Kuro, and Kenma felt frozen on the spot, like a deer in the headlights. Shouyou smelled distinctly of deodorant, which should have been at least a little disgusting, but it only evoked memories of volleyball, short showers after morning practice, and the whole day spent smelling like someone had spilled a bottle of perfume on them. Shouyou’s smell felt like home.

Later that day, they got a text that, considering how Koutarou could run his mouth, they should have seen coming.

**From: shouyou**

_hey kenma did u do sports in hs?????_

Kenma inhaled deeply, and typed out their answer.

**To: shouyou**

_can you call tonight? it’d be easier like that_

**From: shouyou**

_sure!!!!!!_

Tonight proved to be… much later than anticipated. Kenma had started dozing off on their pillow, Lev sleeping like a log in the bed next to them, when they were woken up by a text from Shouyou.

**From: shouyou**

_hey i know its late but can we call now?????_

**To: shouyou**

_sure_

Immediately after that, Kenma’s phone started vibrating, and they picked up the call.

“Hi,” Shouyou’s voice was distorted by the phone speaker, but they could still notice he was a little out of breath.

“What’s happening, Shouyou?” they asked, a little worried.

“Bokuto-san said you played sports in high school,” Shouyou said once more. “You… gwaah, I don’t know how to ask this.”

“I played volleyball, yeah,” Kenma admitted.

“Oh. Oh, right, ok. And-”

“It’s not that I didn’t like it,” Kenma said, almost apologetic, though they didn’t know why, “it was just… not my thing.”

“You played volleyball,” Shouyou said.

“Yeah. I was a setter.”

“And you didn’t love it.”

Kenma felt their cheeks redden with shame. They just didn’t have the spark. They didn’t _not_ have fun, but they hadn’t… It hadn’t been something they loved doing, not as much as they could have.

“No,” they ended up responding, because that was quicker, like ripping off a bandaid.

Kenma felt their throat go dry. Shouyou was probably reconsidering everything they’d ever done together, and he was probably thinking Kenma deliberately lied, when in fact, they’d just been too ashamed of their lack of dedication to something that Shouyou so obviously loved, lived, breathed for.

“I am literally right now in the middle of running to your building with a volleyball and my spare shoes,” Shouyou let out as fast as he could, definitely breathless now. “Please toss to me?”

Since they left high school, they hadn’t tossed to anyone, not even for Kuro when he asked for it. They’d decided that this part of their life was behind them, that they wanted to move on, go forwards. 

“Yeah,” they said, and they felt like a weight of a thousand tonnes had been lifted off their shoulders. “I’ll toss to you as many times as you want.”


	10. oh, the smell of old leather

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am WEAK for hinata playing volleyball aka the entire haikyuu anime and manga  
> anyways if any of the side pairings interest you, drop me a comment and i'll write more !!!

“Oh my god, Kenma,” Shouyou said as soon as he saw them go up the steps leading to the little kiosk next to their dorm. “I can’t believe you came !”

Truth be told, he’d expected a rebuttal, a firm “No, it’s two in the morning and I have better things to do — like sleep — than play volleyball, a sport I don’t like, with a hyper-energetic eighteen-year-old.” Kenma looked like death, eyes half closed and shoulders shivering in the cold wind, but they smiled nonetheless and they said, instead, “I wanted to see you jump.”

Shouyou almost felt like tearing up. He took one of Kenma’s hands, squeezed it hard, and walked back to his bag that he’d thrown away as soon as he saw Kenma arrive. He retrieved a volleyball and a pair of tennis shoes, that Kenma definitely didn’t fit into. Nevermind, Shouyou thought, they’d just be doing tosses and receive practice.

Kenma seemed to need a little time to get accustomed again to the weight of the ball in their hands. They made it spin once or twice, threw it in the air and caught it with dexterity, and though it was dark, Shouyou could notice a flush to their cheeks.

“Toss to me !” he said, smile so wide it burned.

Kenma smiled as well, and sent the ball up in the air. It slowed down enough for Shouyou to hit it at the perfect height — without ever having trained with him, Kenma had sent the ball directly in his palm. The sting of it felt strange, because of the location and the people present, but… somehow the moment was made magical by Kenma’s rosy cheeks and the sparkle in their eyes.

“One more !” Shouyou yelled, without a care for the other students fast asleep a building away. “Kenma, please, one more !”

“You can jump higher than that,” Kenma said, but they added, “maybe not at this time of the day, though.”

“You bet I can ! I’m just so-” Shouyou yawned so deeply that he felt the corners of his mouth hurt.

They spent a little over an hour doing tosses, Kenma directing Shouyou’s placement and posture.

“And you’ve only been playing volleyball since high school?” Kenma asked, when they’d both crumbled to the ground from sheer exhaustion. 

“Yeah,” Shouyou answered, completely out of breath. “I, uh. There wasn’t a boy’s volleyball club at my middle school, so I mostly did everything by myself.”

“Your receives are a little weak,” Kenma commented, “but your jumps and speed are incredible.”

“Do you like tossing to me ?” Shouyou asked, and he raised his head enough to look at Kenma. Their eyes were a vibrant yellow under the street lamp, and he shivered faced with the intense gaze they were directing his way.

“Yeah,” and they smiled, ruthless. “I regret not playing against you in high school.”

Shouyou felt a pang at these words — oh, how he would have loved playing against Kenma in high school, hitting their tosses until his palm was raw, and collapsing on the floor, exhausted but happy. He did not regret for a single second that Kageyama was his setter, but… connecting on something like volleyball with his own soulmate meant the world to him.

After a little while of just panting and trying to catch their breaths, Kenma looked at their watch and said in a yawn, “Ok, time for sleep, I got a class at eight thirty tomorrow.”

“You what,” Shouyou dumbly said. “You have a class at _what?_ ”

“Good night, Shouyou !” they just answered, and they were gone.

Shouyou had to scrape himself off the floor and limp back to his dorm, chest on fire. He was going to be dead on his feet tomorrow, or rather, this morning, but they felt like they’d witnessed one of the world’s seven marvels.

Indeed, after a mere four hours of sleep, he was woken up by his alarm (noticing, on the way, that he’d missed the first two iterations), and he could only whip up instant miso soup with a bowl of leftover rice – that was his usual breakfast anyway. His chest felt warm still, and he did not know if it was from exercise or something else he couldn’t quite yet put his finger on. Class this day was halfway across campus, and Shouyou had to meet up with Tsukishima at some point.

“You’re not that well dressed today,” Tsukishima said shortly, looking down on Shouyou, who was wearing jeans and a T-shirt.

“It’s gonna be hot soon,” Shouyou answered. “Hi yourself.”

Tsukishima’s eyes lingered on Shouyou’s bare arms before he started walking towards their classroom, patient as always.

Class was a nightmare. Shouyou could barely focus on his note-taking, and the drowsiness induced by the teacher’s monotone voice made him feel like he slept through the whole thing.

“What’s with you today ?” Tsukishima snapped at the end of the class, when he took a look at Shouyou’s notes — a whole great deal of white paper, scribbles barely legible on a little less than half of the sheet. “I’m not giving you my notes unless you have an excuse.”

“So nice, Stingyshima,” Shouyou muttered. “I stayed up playing volleyball with Kenma last night.”

Tsukishima’s face turned into a grimace, like it was physically painful for him that people played volleyball outside of club hours, but then, it was like something clicked, and he paled dramatically.

“Tsukishima ? Are you ok ?”

“Kenma. Like, Kozume Kenma. From the baking adventure you had.”

“Uh, yeah ?” Shouyou did not know why it seemed so important to Tsukishima that the two were connected, and not understanding where he’d learned Kenma’s last name. 

“Your soulmate.”

“Oh, right ! I told Yamaguchi but I didn’t tell you. We met during the second week of uni. They’re in game design, we see each other pretty often by now, I’d say. They’re super cool. Way cooler than you.” Shouyou was satisfied by this little summary and started packing his stuff up for lunch, before he noticed Tsukishima was still motionless. “Tsukishima ? You ok ?”

“You found your soulmate. Huh,” Tsukishima tried to wince and scoff at the same time, which produced a weird little sound, and then, he seemed to abandon all pretence entirely. “Someone agreed to be your soulmate.”

“Agreed” wasn’t the word Shouyou would have used — they didn’t quite have a choice, as far as soulmate marks went, but it felt mean, even for Tsukishima, to imply that Shouyou’s soulmate would immediately reject him.

“Let’s go, Yamaguchi is waiting for us to have lunch,” he said instead of whatever scalding remark he didn’t think of. 

“Hm,” Tsukishima answered, and they started walking towards the cafeteria.

They found Yamaguchi at a table for four, laptop out on his knees, typing away furiously. He barely raised his head in greeting, and waved to the two tuna onigiri he’d ordered for Shouyou.

“Thanks, Yamaguchi !” he said, trying to keep his voice down. “You hadn’t told Tsukishima about Kenma, right ? He seemed quite surprised this morning.”

Tsukishima winced for real this time. “I was just surprised someone believed he and his soulmate would be instant friends,” Tsukishima said, and he added as an afterthought, “and then made it work.”

“What’s wrong about that, Tsukki?” Yamaguchi said before he’d finished his sentence, and then, it was his turn to wince; Shouyou looked from one to the other, feeling like puzzle pieces were missing for him to completely understand what was going on. “Can’t people be friends ?”

“People can always be friends, look at us !” Shouyou exclaimed, “I’m friends with you, Yachi and Kageyama, maybe even Tsukishima.”

“Yeah,” the latter said sarcastically, “what a great group we make.”

“Tsukki, that’s enough,” Yamaguchi quietly interrupted.

Tsukishima snapped his mouth shut, like he was about to say something but then suddenly decided against it. Yamaguchi closed his laptop with a sigh, and he got out his own onigiri from his bag, setting them on the table next to Shouyou’s.

“I’ve had a long week end,” Yamaguchi said, still in this cold tone that did not suit him at all, “so no fighting today. Please.” he added, and to Shouyou it sounded like he was begging.

“We’re cool, Yamaguchi,” he said to his friend, “don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks, Hinata.”

Tsukishima still hadn’t said anything, and he abruptly pulled a chair from the table, sat with a resounding noise, and got out his lunch box. Shouyou grabbed the onigiri and started munching on them, wondering about why Tsukishima was this upset with the topic of soulmates. In Karasuno, they hadn’t made a big deal about it until Kageyama and Suga-san got their soulmarks, and after, no one except Tanaka and Nishinoya brought the topic up — and even then, only in good humour.

Yamaguchi finished his lunch first and got out his computer again, typing with the same rapid tempo than before, and he barely acknowledged Shouyou refilling his glass of water. Had Tsukishima and him had a fight ? Was Shouyou’s soulmate such a sensitive topic between them ? Question after question piled up on him, and he had to shake his head and remember — he wasn’t a receptacle for human worries, and these worries did not mean he was doing something fundamentally wrong. 

Eventually, they all got up and went to their common class of the afternoon, English. Shouyou was still abysmal at grammar, but he’d started to gather a good vocabulary from watching anime on international (illegal) websites, where the English subtitles paired with the original Japanese audio made it easy to link one word to another. And even after the class, which both Yamaguchi and Tsukishima had spent ignoring each other, Shouyou still retained a little of the light feeling of playing with Kenma, that he carried on to volleyball practice.

“You’re not jumping like you did yesterday,” was Kageyama’s first comment when he tossed to Shouyou.

“Ah, sorry, I’m really tired,” he answered.

“No, that’s not what I meant. I meant, your feet didn’t land that way yesterday. Did something happen ?”

Shouyou became scarlet. “I played volleyball with Kenma at two. They had really good advice to give me.”

“Idiot, you skipped your English class to play volleyball with an amateur?” Kageyama immediately snapped, brows furrowing.

“First of all, they’re not an amateur, they played from middle to high school in a pretty good team,” Shouyou said, a little haughty. “And secondly,” he blushed even more, if that was possible, “I meant two in the morning.”

Kageyama remained silent for a little while, seemingly lost in the sound of balls slapping the ground which echoed around them, until he said, “Huh.”

“What,” Shouyou whined. “Aren’t you happy I have someone helping me out ?”

“No, I just meant… nevermind.”

“Fuck off, Bakageyama ! Don’t leave me hanging !”

“Do I fuck off or not ?” Kageyama deadpanned, but the corners of his mouth twitched.

Shouyou whined even louder, which got them in trouble with Minami, and they had to finish setting up plastic cones for target practice. Quickly, it became obvious that Shouyou’s fatigue always paled in front of his excitement for volleyball, and the club session ended on Bokuto clapping his shoulder with much more force than Shouyou’s body could handle, sending him on the ground.

“Sorry Shouyou !” Bokuto exclaimed. “Damn, you really should eat more. You’re like a twig ! I could snap you in half.”

“Hot stuff,” Yahaba piped in as he walked by with a cart of volleyballs.

“Oh shut up, Mister Hornyman,” Bokuto yelled. “I’ve seen you drool over Hoshiumi more than once.”

“We have, as you may have noticed, been dating for a year. I have my boyfriend’s permission to drool over him whenever I want. Right, Kourai?” Yahaba called.

“Whatever you say, babe!” Hoshiumi answered, and Yahaba looked at him so fondly, Bokuto started making gagging noises.

After practice, the group split in different directions, some having late classes, others going back to their dorm. Kageyama and Shouyou walked together up to where their paths differed, and remained there for a little while, enjoying the warmer weather that allowed them to stay out without their teeth clicking together from the cold. They spoke of their classes, both complaining about the English teacher they had at different periods, before Kageyama said the thing that had apparently been on his mind all evening.

“So… you played with Kenma, huh.”

“Yeah !” Shouyou beamed. 

“And… you’re not…” He stopped then, searching for words. Shouyou knew it wasn’t easy for him to say what was on his mind without coming off as rude or careless, so he left Kageyama some time to collect himself before he continued. “You’re not afraid.”

“Of what ? I don’t understand.” Shouyou said, and he had the displeasing impression of being candid, naive even. But he really could not put a finger on what Kageyama fond wrong in this new development.

“You’re not afraid, of, you know. Them. Leaving.”

“Why… I don’t understand,” Shouyou said again. “I wouldn’t do anything to make them leave !”

“You said yourself they were uncomfortable with volleyball,” and Shouyou remembered that conversation he’d had with Kageyama, where he expressed doubts over his ability to keep these two parts of his life separate, Kenma and volleyball, as if they were poison together and were not meant to mix. “And you invited them to play volleyball with you on a whim. Weren’t you… Argh, I can’t explain,” Kageyama snapped. “You know what I mean.”

“Kageyama,” Shouyou deadpanned. “I have absolutely no idea what goes on in your brain outside the court. To me, you’re a complete mystery.”

“Oh shut up,” but Shouyou had managed to make him smile, a genuine smile this time.

“I’ll be fine and so will they.” he said to Kageyama, and at no point did he doubt that his words were no more than reassurance.


	11. i can't fight this feeling any longer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're getting there everybody...... slowly but surely we're getting closer to the end !!! stay tuned for the last chapters because there's gonna be another drawing from my artist Larissa !!!!!  
> anyways, as always, kudos and comments make my day  
> enjoy !!!

At noon, Kenma woke up — groggy from the nap they’d taken after their morning class — to fifteen text messages, mostly from Kuro.

**From: kuro**

_DUDE I HEARD FROM BO_

**From: kuro**

_YOU PLAYED VOLLEYBALL WITH THE SHRIMP AND NOT ME???_

The rest of the messages were variations of “ _I am feeling so betrayed_ ” and “ _friendship ended with Kenma, now Air Salonpas is my best friend_ ”. Only one of the messages was from someone else.

**From: shouyou**

_hey kenma i hope ur not too tired!!!!!!!! tell me how it goes!!!!!!_

They smiled, touched that Shouyou had been worried for them, and they sent a quick answer.

**To: shouyou**

_just woke up from my nap……… will nap more……. hope you’re ok too_

Shouyou answered with a series of muscle emoji, before saying he had to go to his English class. Kenma promptly dropped their phone on their face, grimaced, and fell asleep again.

When they woke up, mind even foggier, night had already fallen and Lev was bundled up in his bed, talking to his family in Russia with great difficulty. He didn’t speak Russian as his mother tongue, which Kenma had been very surprised about, and he’d taken language classes to bridge the gap with his cousins and the rest of his family who had remained in Russia. Lev, who was ordinarily so ditzy it could become insufferable, had the same laser focus for language learning than he had for volleyball. They were really sad that he couldn’t keep up with both the demanding university team and his classes, because being the ace in his third year seemed to have done a lot to calm him down. He still played in a little neighbourhood club, the same Kuro went to, but it wasn’t the same, and they were the best players there by a long shot.

Lev smiled when he saw they were up, and he motioned towards the plate of pizza he’d left next to their bed. Cold pizza it was, then, Kenma thought, too tired to cook dinner. When had they become so weak to late nights? They used to spend more time awake than asleep, and now it was the opposite, kind of like a cat. Maybe they were going to grow whiskers.

They wondered if Shouyou would still like them with furry ears. It made them smile — of course he would, he’d think it was the best thing in the world. He’d probably insist on petting Kenma, which, knowing how averse to touch they could sometimes be, would be a hit or a miss. Shouyou would wonder if he was going to grow wings… 

When Kenma fell back asleep, they had a really strange dream. They were sitting on the branch of a tree, with leaves and flowers so exuberant they could barely see the sky. Next to them was Shouyou, face full of feathers, black wings on his back. He kept taking flight, disappearing above the canopy, and zooming back down to perch next to them.

“Come on Kenma,” dream-Shouyou said, “it’s easy, just jump!”

But Kenma couldn’t — if they jumped, they’d fall. They’d die, even. Shouyou did not seem to notice and became increasingly worried, until Kenma caved in.

They woke up in a cold sweat minutes before their morning alarm clock rang, and spent the last few moments they had left trying to grasp what they’d dreamt about, to no avail. It was like trying to catch rainwater with a sieve, the fragments of the dream escaped them more and more as they tried to hold them back.

When their alarm finally rang, they startled, having started to fall back asleep. Lev was long gone, still hooked up on the routine of morning runs that Kenma really couldn’t keep up with. They ate a KitKat for breakfast, praying that their mum wouldn’t know — she had a sixth sense that allowed her to scold Kenma about anything and be right about it. And as they were about to leave their dorm for the computer room of the university, where they had their first class, they checked their phone.

**From: shouyou**

_hi!!!!!!_

They smiled, warmed up to the core. Shouyou had taken the habit of sending these kinds of messages, sometimes even only one cat kaomoji, to maintain contact. Kenma wondered if he did it with other people as well, or if they were special in that sense. They didn’t know which answer they’d like more, both had scary outcomes and they didn’t like to be afraid.

Routine was something Kenma had always liked. When they were little, they woke up every day at the same hour, ate the same breakfast, put on similar looking clothes, and went on to the same path to school. They’d be picked up by Kuro at their door, and they’d play on their DS for the whole bus ride. The few years Kuro and Kenma weren’t in the same school had resulted in many late mornings, running up to the bus, anxiously looking down to their DS until one friend or another came to see them. But high school had been better — they’d managed, thanks in part to Taketora, who’d taken vice-captaincy very seriously. Now that Kuro and Kenma didn’t even have a similar schedule, they’d grown into the habit of setting their clocks a little too early, in an effort not to run up so late. They liked being on time more, to be sure they were at the right place, but being early was better than perpetually being late.

Shouyou had become a part of their new routine. Oh, he remained a wild card, and Kenma could never precisely predict when his texts would come, but he’d always message them at least once. Today, it was this greeting, tomorrow, it could be a picture of a flower he thought was pretty. 

Kuro texted Kenma as well, but not with this kind of regularity — and they saw each other pretty often anyway, which was not the case with Shouyou, who constantly ran in and out of volleyball practice. Today seemed to be a lucky day though

**From: kuro**

_Hey kitten, the shrimp has a study session planned with Bo today, wanna come hang out and watch over them like vultures?_

**To: kuro**

_shut up when you speak_

**To: kuro**

_tell me when to come_

Kenma smiled a little and pocketed their phone, ready to start the day with a new feeling in their chest. They hadn’t ever felt like this before, but they sensed this feeling was a delicate flower — hold it too tight and it’s crushed, the smell only lasting so long.

After their design class, they headed to Kuro’s dorm, and were surprised to see Shouyou and Koutarou already there, hunched over what seemed to be… maths, that was as far as Kenma understood.

“Hi, baby cat,” Kuro whispered as he closed the door behind them. “Wanna go bird watching?”

“Shouyou isn’t a shrimp anymore?” Kenma asked, already done with Kuro’s bad jokes.

“Well, he was talking to Bo, and apparently, his high school team was ‘The Crows’, so, y’know, since Bo is an owl-” Kuro noticed Kenma’s expression and clamped his mouth shut. “You’re no fun,” he complained.

They remained silent for a few minutes, watching the other two debate about Greek letters that Kenma was glad they’d forgotten all about, before Kuro became twitchy, obviously wanting to say something.

“Let’s go outside,” Kenma whispered, and they left the two — well, the two birds, to do their mathemagic.

Kuro could only hold it in until they exited the building, before he let out a loud, “So !”

“Not so,” Kenma answered. “What was that about.”

“Aw, Kenma, you wound me,” Kuro melodramatically said, “you didn’t even phrase it as a question !”

“If question marks make you happy, we’ve reached a new low,” Kenma commented, and Kuro snorted.

“You know what I mean, you goof. You played volleyball ! Without being forced to by anyone !”

“I know that already, tell me something I don’t know.”

“Why did you go ?” Kuro asked instead. “You could have said no. You could have said it was too late. There were like, zero reasons for you to agree. And you still went. You enjoyed it, even, if what the shrimp says is true.”

“Shut up,” Kenma grumbled. “I played because he likes it.”

“Oh, don’t mind me, liking volleyball, and getting no tosses from my bestest friend at all,” Kuroo mocked. “What I’m really wondering though, is… when did you start to make efforts to be with him ? Hinata seems like the type of guy you’d hate spending time with.”

“Loud, annoying and oblivious describe you perfectly, and you’re my best friend,” they said. “So, it’s a wonder I’m hanging out with you too, yet you never point it out.”

“Kenmaaa, don’t be pissy !”

“You’re pissy,” they said, and they stuck out their tongue at him.

Truth be told, though, Kuro still had a point with his silly question. Kenma could only remember one time in their life where they’d made that much effort to be with someone, and it was joining the middle school (and then high school) volleyball team just to be with Kuro. Volleyball seemed to plague them, they jokingly thought, because…

While playing hadn’t been something they’d done by choice, it was something that had become fun, for a little while. Playing with Kuro, Taketora, Shouhei, Lev, and everyone else… They’d found family in Nekoma’s team. This part of their past meant a lot to them, and they wouldn’t change it for anything.

But that was it, though. Volleyball was supposed to be the past, not the present, and certainly not the future. They said very clearly that they wanted nothing to do with it anymore, and though they’d still kept the comfortable attire, they hadn’t touched a ball in two years before Shouyou called them in the middle of the night to… What was he trying to do? That was what puzzled Kenma the most. Shouyou wasn’t like other people could often be. He didn’t have afterthoughts, or hidden motives — this wasn’t meant in a childish way, but more so based on the fact that Shouyou gave it his all, always, without holding back. It had a certain candid feeling, like he’d been spared from growing up into a bitter adult like most of them were.

Kenma was afraid they couldn’t keep up. What if they failed at being a good friend ? They certainly had never been a leader, and even less a follower, but mostly this friend that sits in the corner and does their thing, sometimes lightly prodded to follow the current, most often left alone or talked to in little groups rather than huge team assemblies.

They realised, Shouyou was giving it his all, and coming to play volleyball with him was a way to show him they also were. Trying to communicate in his language, trying to meet him halfway. Kuro must have sensed that.

“Hey, kitty Kenma,” he gently said. “I didn’t mean to start a session of soul-searching… Let’s go back up, they must have finished by now.”

Indeed, when they got back to Kuro’s dorm, both of them were gone. Shouyou had left a little note saying how sorry he was for not waiting for them to come back before leaving, and Kenma smiled at the little doodle in the margin of the paper — a little crow, more cartoony and childish than realistic, with brightly coloured feathers on top of his head. Kuro said Shouyou’s team in high school was the crows, and Kenma realised how much pride Shouyou took in having been part of this team.

“Kuro,” they asked quietly. “Can I see it?”

“Wh- oh. Yeah, sure,” Kuro answered. There was only one question that Kenma asked _like that_ , and they waited for Kuro to remove his coat, his sweater, and finally his undershirt.

There was a black square just over Kuro’s heart. Kenma cautiously caressed it with their fingertips, feeling the slight raise in the ink where a soulmark had appeared. It read, in beautiful cursive, “Akaashi Keiji”. 

“Do you ever regret not chasing after him ?” Kenma whispered, throat tight. “Do you think you two could have had a chance ?”

“Don’t take me as an example of how to live your love life,” Kuro said, bitterness so strong in his tone that Kenma almost regretted asking the question. “I fucked it all up myself.”

Kuro’s mark had appeared at one of their joint practices with Fukurodani. Bokuto was over the moon about his new setter turned boyfriend, and Kuro and Kenma were eager to see him in person instead of over Skype. Kuro had clapped Akaashi on the shoulder, and they’d both winced, a hand on their hearts.

Kuro had paled, a little frightened, but Akaashi had looked utterly devastated. His coach had pulled him out for the rest of the day. Kuro had soldiered on and played until the end, when Koutarou took him aside to ask him if he was ok. Kenma had been on net-folding duty, but they’d turned around to see Kuro wiping furiously the tears that fell from his eyes.

“I never want a soulmate if it ends up like this,” Kenma had whispered that night, over the phone, while pretending to be asleep so their parents wouldn’t show up. “I hate…”

Kenma hated Akaashi for what he’d done, and hated whatever gods above had made it so Kuro’s soulmate treated him so poorly.

“I’m ok, baby cat,” Kuro said, but Kenma could hear his strangled voice, could see the tear tracks on his cheeks, could feel the despair in his tone. 

_It won’t happen to me_ , they thought. _I won’t let it happen_. 


	12. Chapter 12

Shouyou woke up with a stale breath and his hair in disarray. He’d fallen asleep on his homework again… and he was woken up by his dinner alarm. Or more precisely, Yachi, holding his phone and gently rubbing his shoulder.

“Hinata, wake-up, time to eat!” she said, and she gestured to the plate of curry she’d just made for him.

“Oh, Yachi, you’re a lifesaver,” Shouyou teared up. “I wouldn’t be able to do anything without you !”

“Shush you,” she blushed, “eat while it’s hot !”

They both sat on the floor between their beds, and ate while chatting mindlessly about high school memories and how their various obligations were piling up on them. Shouyou complained about Minami, the regular setter, and Yachi complained about the student syndicate which kept sending the student council stuff that had literally nothing to do with them.

“Ah, Hinata, you look exhausted,” Yachi said when they’d finished doing the dishes. “I suggest leaving the rest for tomorrow and just sleeping.”

“I could never say no to you, Yacchan !” Shouyou joked, but he did prepare his bag for the next day, and headed straight to bed after deactivating his sleep alarm. 

When Shouyou woke up again, his breath was still stale, but he’d at least enjoyed a full night’s sleep and a good dinner. He ate an energy bar and brushed his teeth before leaving for volleyball practice, and after that, ran straight from the showers to his class with Yamaguchi and Tsukishima. Only, the latter wasn’t there, and Yamaguchi had big dark bags under his eyes.

“Oh no,” Shouyou said as soon as he saw him. “What happened?”

“Tsukishima had a neck issue yesterday, he’s at the hospital today and he’ll spend the week there. Something about tendons again.”

“I’m so sorry, Yamaguchi… If you want, we can go see him after class.”

“I can enter, you won’t be able to, probably. Akiteru told me he mostly needed rest.” Yamaguchi said.

“Oh, ok, I get that.” Shouyou said, a little disappointed.

They had to quiet down when the class started, but Shouyou decided to accompany Yamaguchi to the cafeteria instead of eating lunch with Kageyama, thinking his friend needed the moral support.

“Tell me about something good,” Yamaguchi said when Shouyou asked him what would make him feel better.

“Hm…” Shouyou mused, but he did not have to go far away in time to find something he was really excited about. “I played volleyball with Kenma the other day ! They’re really good at it ! They gave me tons of advice.”

“I’m glad !” Yamaguchi said, before his brow furrowed again, and he looked down at his plate, seeming more distraught than rejoiced by this piece of information. Shouyou wasn’t sure what he’d done to make Yamaguchi look so sad, but he instantly felt awful about himself — what was he, incapable of supporting a friend in need ?

“Your soulmark is blue, right ?” Yamaguchi then asked.

“Uh, yeah, I think so.” Shouyou said, and he took off his jacket to show Yamaguchi the writing on the crook of his elbow. Indeed, it was a deep blue, like those days in the summer when you wonder if the sky isn’t painted on by some master artist, clouds barely there, nothing to shield you from the sun.

“Have you looked up the colour meaning ?” Yamaguchi said.

“Nah, I completely forgot,” Shouyou admitted. “I haven’t given it that much thought, you know ? It’s just a soulmark.”

“I’ll look it up,” Yamaguchi answered, getting his phone out of his pocket. “Let’s see…” A few moments later, he had pulled up the website of the ISO, the International Soulmate Organisation. “It says…” Yamaguchi scrolled down the page, looking for the paragraph on this type of blue. “It can mean trust, but also joy, apparently. And some people say that those who have blue soulmarks are often paired with more… hm, that’s really unclear.”

“What ? What’s unclear ?” Shouyou asked, alarmed.

“They say it means ‘bond of any nature’, which means basically nothing and everything at the same time.”

“Oh,” Shouyou was relieved, “I thought you were gonna say it meant they wouldn’t like me or something.”

Yamaguchi looked really distraught for a moment, before schooling his features in a more neutral expression.

“You’re not telling me something,” Shouyou guessed. “What’s going on, Yamaguchi? I wanna help.”

Yamaguchi seemed torn, and eventually, he let out, “Tsukishima and I are soulmates.” Shouyou was really taken aback, and could only let out a “Wah ?”, but Yamaguchi grit his teeth and soldiered on. “We found out in elementary school,” he said. “I was being bullied for my freckles, and he pushed the bullies away. When he lent me a hand to help me get up, we got our marks. Mine is red,” and the next words felt to Shouyou like Yamaguchi was opening old wounds, “his is blue.”

“Woah… I had no idea,” Shouyou said, prompting Yamaguchi to go on.

“He thought I was in love with him. I probably was, not gonna lie, but… Not anymore, you know ? I’ve moved on. Our bond can be whatever we want it to be, we don’t have a set frame to be working in. All types of relationship should mean freedom, not…” Yamaguchi trailed off.

“Have you talked to him about it ?” Shouyou asked, still perplexed.

“He clamps up every time. Ever since I’ve known him, he’s always said he found soulmates stupid and useless.”

 _That’s not very nice_ , Shouyou thought of saying, but Yamaguchi seemed to make an effort to keep his tone casual, so he didn’t speak up. Still — Shouyou had known Tsukishima was a bit of an asshole, but being an asshole _to Yamaguchi_ felt wrong somehow. Being an asshole to your soulmate, because they were your soulmate, sounded particularly unfair.

“I’m genuinely sorry,” Shouyou still ended up saying. “You don’t deserve that.”

“He’s had his issues,” Yamaguchi immediately said about Tsukishima. “With his brother, he told me about it, but ah-”

“Yeah, it’s private, don’t worry, I get it.”

“Thanks for respecting that, Hinata. Anyway, I’m over it now, aren’t I ?” and the smile Yamaguchi gave was heart-wrenching. 

Shouyou went back to his dorm with thoughts whirling around inside his skull. Yamaguchi’s story was a real shock to him — he knew Tsukishima and him were close friends, but soulmates were an entirely different can of worms, and he was glad that Kageyama and him hadn’t ended up soulmates after that disaster of a first match against each other.

Lost in thought, Shouyou startled when his phone rang. It was a text from Kenma, and the onslaught of new thoughts about his relationship with them threatened to overwhelm him.

**To: kenma**

_can i call for a little while???????_

**From: kenma**

_sure_

Shouyou immediately dialed up Kenma’s number, and waited for one second only before Kenma picked up.

“What’s happening, Shouyou ?” they asked, tone as plain as usual — but, Shouyou noticed, with a hint of worry.

“I found out something crazy today, and. Ack. Did you know that people could move on from being soulmates ?” Shouyou started saying, before amending his statement. “Well, like, they’re still soulmates, but they don’t, like, feel the same. It just fades. And they can stay friends but also they can _not_ stay friends and. Gwaah. I’m not sure what my point is.”

“I think I know what you mean,” Kenma slowly said. “But you know, we’re… close, now. That’s gotta count for something, right ?”

“Yeah but what if you decide that you don’t like me anymore !” Shouyou almost cried. “I don’t wanna lose you !”

“Shouyou,” Kenma’s voice felt more and more worried, “it’s not gonna happen any time soon. Breathe with me. It’s ok.”

They spent a few moments inhaling and exhaling together until Shouyou said “I feel better now. Thanks, Kenma.”

“I don’t wanna mess this up,” Kenma said. “I gotta go though. Talk to you later ?”

“I’ll text you,” Shouyou answered. “Bye Kenma !”

“See you soon, Shouyou.”

Shouyou’s heart seemed a little lighter after this phone call. He still felt sorrow for Yamaguchi, and he was glad that Kenma did not take his worries lightly. Sensing that he’d do more productive things after a little snack, he went to the kitchen, and grabbed someone’s forgotten spork to eat a cup of egg pudding that surprisingly bore his own name. After that, he opened his computer and tried to work on his essay, the due date dangerously close, and it helped relieve him of the thoughts clashing about in his head.

A few days later, Shouyou found himself restless at nine in the evening, and on a whim, he asked Kenma if they were willing to toss to him again. Practice had been cancelled and all of the pent-up energy he had from not playing that day made him too agitated to sleep. When he got a small “ _see you at the kiosk_ ” from Kenma, Shouyou put on his outdoor sports shoes and grabbed the slightly deflated volleyball that always hung around somewhere next to his bed. He almost ran to the meet up point, and he felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. Kenma was already there, spinning a ball between their hands, and Shouyou was mesmerised for a moment, seeing his name on such dexterous fingers. 

“Hi,” he panted. “I-”

“-wanted to see someone and talk,” Kenma finished for him, and Shouyou realised that it was true.

“Yachi isn’t here tonight, she’s got a date with her girlfriend, but I…”

“You’re still thinking about your friend’s situation.” Kenma guessed.

“Yeah. Gosh, Kenma, stop finishing all my sentences !” he joked, and Kenma smirked in return.

“You gotta stop being an open book, then,” they said. Shouyou lightly jabbed them in the ribs, and Kenma giggled — were they ticklish? Shouyou wanted to know, but this wasn’t why they’d come.

“I just… Yeesh. You know how when you feel all gwaah inside ? But instead it’s worms.”

“I absolutely do not understand a word of what you’re saying,” Kenma said. “But let’s say I got it. What’s bothering you?”

“Do you think soulmates have to really mean something?”

Kenma took in a deep breath. And then another. And then another.

And they began talking, of how they’d been small and afraid and weird, and how before Kuro came they never even wanted to have friends. How they read the soulmate books their mother kept in the broom closet as emergency wedges. How they were not soulmates with Kuro, and who Kuro was soulmates with. How he got a mark on his heart, written in black cursive, and how he hated and hated it, and longed for someone to be that “special person” made just for him.

“Kuro’s a romantic at heart,” Kenma finished. “I guess life just didn’t work his way.” They had both sat on the steps leading to the kiosk and Kenma kicked their feet a few times, voice raw from having spoken so long.

“You know,” Shouyou slowly said. “My best friend Kageyama got his soulmark in our first year of high school. His soulmate already had a soulmate — they were captain and vice of the volleyball team. And… I don’t know, it just didn’t seem to wanna work out.” Kenma made a small noise of sympathy, and Shouyou continued. “At first they didn’t even talk to each other. Suga-san just… didn’t want him, you know? And then, he graduated, and I guess being so far from Kageyama had an effect on him after all. They room together now, actually. Sawamura, Suga-san’s other soulmate, is studying abroad for a few years. I guess it all worked out in the end, like puzzle pieces. Maybe Kuroo needs to find his own puzzle instead of trying to complete one where the pieces don’t have colour.”

Kenma remained silent for a long while, before getting up and dusting his clothes off. “I think I want to sleep on this,” they said, and Shouyou yawned, which made them add, “and you need to sleep too, apparently. See you soon, Shouyou.”

“Sleep well, Kenma.” he answered, voice tired, but not sad.


	13. holiday special

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wah... one more chappy and it's done... can't believe i got this far. next chapter will have art by my wonderful artist Larissa !!! so stay tuned :3

Summer was definitely here, sun pounding down on the stress-riddled students harder than ever. Shouyou did not think too much about the holidays, so engrossed in his day to day life, but Kenma found the prospect of spending holidays in campus daunting. Kuro was going on a trip with his mums, and they had a surprisingly small amount of work to do.

Kenma figured they’d spend the two weeks of summer vacation playing video games in their room, going out periodically to see the sun (and also go grocery shopping) after that disaster summer between high school and university where they passed out, dehydrated, after playing for a day and a half without drinking, only munching on some apple slices. Classwork was demanding, but they figured that if they could cram it all in the first few days of the holidays, they’d be free to do whatever for the rest of those two weeks.

They still hadn’t asked Shouyou if he was staying or going back to Miyagi, and they did not really want an answer to that right now. 

A third study session with Koutarou had been planned, and they’d declined to come. The previous two had been emotional wrecks and they weren’t ready for another earth-shattering talk with Kuro. It also didn’t help that, on their way to the cafeteria, they were stopped by a tired-looking, but nonetheless annoying Akaashi.

“Kozume,” he’d started saying, and when Kenma showed no intention to slow down, he’d grabbed their sleeve. “I heard from Bokuto-san that Kuroo-san –”

“Shut the fuck up,” Kenma had answered. “I don’t want to know your opinion on anything Kuro does. You wanted out, you got out, now stop plaguing him.”

Akaashi had the gall to look contrite. “Fine. I’m sorry to have bothered you.” he said, but he made no move to walk away, and neither did Kenma. They were thinking – maybe Kuro deserved to have a chance. Maybe Kuro could benefit from listening to what Akaashi had to say, if it wasn’t too late to mend the broken pieces. Maybe Shouyou was right – maybe Kuro needed an entirely new puzzle, one he could do in another shade than black.

“Ugh,” they ended up saying. “Spill it out but make it quick. I’m late for class.”

“I wanted to know if Kuroo-san planned to go back home these holidays. To know if I could spend the holidays at his and Bokuto-san’s dorm.”

Kenma felt like an entire bucket of ice-water had been poured on his shoulders. “You. You’re-” they were so upset, the words were barely coming out of their mouth. “Never go near him again. Don’t you dare try and invade his space. It’s a miracle he could stay friends with Koutarou after what you did, don’t even try and tempt fate.”

This time, Akaashi looked troubled, and he wondered aloud, “but he doesn’t even know me, we don’t mean anything to each other.”

“If that’s how you see it,” Kenma spat, “fuck right off and never come back. Now, stop bothering me, I’ve got class in five minutes.”

Walking faster than they probably ever had, Kenma made it on time to their lesson, and spent the entire two hours typing so furiously on their keyboard that they got several death glares from other students. They couldn’t care less. Akaashi had been so – so oblivious – how could he even – their half-formed thoughts made it impossible to concentrate, and when they came back to their dorm to Lev, fast asleep, limbs dangling dangerously off his bed, they slammed the door shut a little harder than perhaps was necessary.

“What is happening ?” Lev said in a sleepy voice, woken up by the sound.

“Nothing.” Kenma didn’t have it in them to be nice right now. Lev seemed to sense that, and he got up, grabbing a few books and his bag, saying he’d try and study at the library. Kenma muttered their thanks, but when Lev left, they realised they had nothing to distract them from their own thoughts.

Akaashi… he’d never been interested in knowing Kuro. Never even tried to see if they could be friends – Kenma felt like… they’d been so close to becoming like that. So close to turning their back on this opportunity, to becoming like Akaashi.

But Shouyou was something else entirely. He was kind, and fun, and you wanted to know more about him. Also, Kenma was more mature at twenty than they and Akaashi had been at fifteen. If they’d met Shouyou then, they didn’t know how they would have reacted. Hell, they’d been so close to never mentioning their soulmark as it had appeared, letting Shouyou go unaware. And they hadn’t properly thought about it then, but the idea of Shouyou coming back to his dorm with a stranger’s name on his arm, a stranger he’d never find again, had them shivering in disgust.

They wouldn’t let that happen to him. He deserved so much better, and Kenma knew him enough to know that now, but even if they hadn’t – you couldn’t decide an entire stranger’s future for them without even trying to know them a little first.

Kenma breathed in deeply, and tried to replicate the 54321 technique. They were trying to find two things they could smell when their phone rang, with a message from Shouyou.

**To: kenma**

_heyyyyy i’m staying here the whole holidays!!!!!! wanna see each other????? i don’t even have that much homework and bokuto-san and i already started on it!!!!!!_

**From: kenma**

_that’d be lovely, shouyou_

**From: shouyou**

_do you think maybe we could play volleyball sometimes???? club closes for the holidays ( ´•̥̥̥ω•̥̥̥` )_

**To: shouyou**

_i’d love to_

Truth be told, Kenma hated being sweaty, but – Shouyou’s happiness was well worth the little inconvenience of too much deodorant and early showers. And they’d been having fun simply existing around Shouyou, basking in the solar energy that emanated out of him. They needed that kind of lifeline – they needed a reminder that the world was not so bleak.

When the holidays started, Kenma accompanied Kuro to the train station, and smiled when his mothers waved and started shouting “Hi kids !” – they’d been basically raised by them as much as their actual parents, and they wouldn’t have missed an occasion to see them.

“How’s our little kitty cat ?” Kuro’s mums asked in frightening unison, and Kenma made a face.

“Aw, still pissy… you never change, Kenma !” Yuriko said, and Sachiko added, “We love you still, little baby kitten.”

“Stop treating me like I’m still five, it’s embarrassing,” Kenma muttered, but they smiled nonetheless. They missed the simple pleasure of going on holidays with their best friend, chasing bugs and playing way too many hide and seek games that were over either too quick or entirely too slow, depending on who was looking and who was hiding.

“I’ll be sure to send you tons of pictures,” Kuro said, and when he hugged them goodbye, he whispered in their ear, “and don’t forget to enjoy your holidays, right? I’ll be back soon.”

“Ack,” Kenma simply said, but their hands clasped Kuro’s shirt a little tighter, and their throat felt dry.

The way back to their dorm seemed endless, heat emanating from the pavement in a haze, distorting the view ahead. Their headphones blasted calming music that didn’t match the staccato of their heartbeat. When they finally arrived at their dorm, Lev was in a frenzy. 

“Kenma! Ah, so glad to catch you! I was going on a bubble tea adventure with Yaku-san, wanna join ?”

“I think…” Kenma wanted to be alone. They didn’t feel like humouring people with smiles and nice conversation. But they knew that staying inside when you felt like this only made it worse, and they trusted Morisuke, and Lev to a certain extent, not to be harsh on them. “I think I’ll come, yeah.”

They got their wallet out of their school bag to put it in their little shoulder bag, and followed Lev out to the meeting point. Morisuke was already there, fan in hand to try and ward off the heat. The walk to the bubble tea shop was thankfully short, but, since it was the holidays, it was packed inside, and they couldn’t find a seat.

“Let’s go back to the dorms,” Lev suggested, “at least there’s AC in them.”

“Yeah,” Morisuke said, beads of sweat on his forehead. “Why the fuck I decided it was a good day to wear jeans, I have no idea.”

Kenma was wearing a summer dress they’d borrowed from Yuuki’s closet and never given back, and they were thankful for the flowy material that let air circulate around them. Lev was wearing sports shorts, and a tank top that showed off all the muscle he’d gained while growing up from a lanky teenager into an adult volleyball player. Morisuke, on the other hand, was wearing black jeans and a red T-shirt, on which Kenma could already see patches of sweat.

The walk back to campus was quiet, all of them sipping on the drinks they’d gotten, and they collapsed in the lobby of Lev and Kenma’s building, which was half empty thanks to the holidays. “I am never going out again.” Kenma said, before resting their head on the top of the armchair and closing their eyes.

“You know-” Lev started saying, but he was interrupted by Kenma’s phone ringing.

They didn’t look at the caller ID before picking up. “Hi ?” they asked cautiously.

“Kenma !” Shouyou’s bright voice said, “I’m right next to your dorm !”

“Oh, come in then,” Kenma said, “I’m in the lobby with Lev and a friend from high school.”

“I’m running as we speak !”

“Please don’t,” Kenma said, “you’re gonna get a heatstroke.”

“Nah, I’m fine, actually,” Shouyou panted on the other side of the line. “Ok, I’m at the entrance, see you soon!”

Kenma could actually hear Shouyou’s words over the phone, and behind them – he really was close. Lev turned his gaze towards the door and waved his hand wildly.

“Hinata, over here!”

“He can see us,” Kenma muttered, but their features softened as soon as he arrived next to their table, beaming smile firmly in place in spite of the heat.

“Kenma ! And Kenma’s friends ! Hi !”

Lev answered in kind, Morisuke only smiled and waved. Shouyou sat down on a free spot on the sofa, and an awkward silence ensued.

“Oh ! That reminds me,” Lev said, when obviously nothing could have reminded him of anything he was about to say, “I’m leaving for Kyoto to see my babushka, so Kenma’s dorm will be free from me !” Morisuke snickered at that, but Lev did not seem to notice, and he soldiered on. “So Hinata, you can take my bed ! Like this you’ll have plenty of time to spend with Kenma !”

For the second time in as many days, Kenma felt like they were being plunged into an ice bath. Their first thought was as disturbing as the ones that came after.

 _I can’t spend that much time with him_ , they thought, _happy things can’t last forever_.

And then, _what if he finds out I’m in love with him ?_

Their heart stopped. 

Everything made sense, suddenly.

They were in love with Shouyou.

“...ma, Kenma, are you listening?”

“What ?” they answered weakly, trying not to let their emotions show on their face. “Sorry, I got distracted.”

“I was saying,” Shouyou repeated, “that we could play volleyball tonight when it’s less warm ? And then if we finish too late I can sleep in Lev’s bed.”

“That sounds great,” Kenma said, not meaning a word of it.

The others must have sensed that they were too distracted to keep talking, so Lev and Hinata got up to “pack things,'' as Lev put it, and Morisuke ruffled their hair before saying that his roommate was probably waiting for him. That left Kenma sitting alone in the lobby, fresh air from the ceiling fan blowing softly on them, heart beating out of their chest.

How could they have been so blind ! Of course they’d fall in love with Shouyou after spending so much time with him – Kuro was probably the only one to know, but child Kenma was a romantic at heart, and though this part of them was buried under layers and layers of denial, each heavier than the last, they remained a moth, forever drawn to the flame.

“Fuck,” Kenma said out loud, and a random student passing by added a very thoughtful “Me too, bro, me too.”

Night came and Kenma had barely moved from their crouched position on the couch, and they were definitely getting a sore throat, with all the cold air blowing directly on them. They had seen Shouyou again when he accompanied Lev to the train station, and they’d tried not to be too obvious when they said goodbye to him, but…

It felt like the whole world knew. Kuro knew, definitely, and he’d gently tried to warn them, but they’d heard nothing of what he had to say, too engrossed in the feeling of novelty that Shouyou brought to their life, too scared by the memory of the long nights after Akaashi ruined it all. And now they were in deep, deep shit, if you'll pardon the expression. Kenma decided that it was time to go back to their room, and they bundled up under the covers in spite of the heat, staring at nothing.

Their phone suddenly rang. Or, not so suddenly – they realised they had several missed messages, and even a missed call.

“Hi ?” they said as they picked up.

“Kenma ? Oh thank heavens, you’re picking up,” Shouyou’s voice echoed, like he was talking with his phone on speaker. “I’ve been sending you texts for hours !”

“Sorry,” and Kenma’s own voice was distant, muffled. “I hadn’t heard my phone.”

“We were supposed to meet up a while ago,” Shouyou didn’t even sound angry, he sounded worried, and maybe a little hurt, “I assume you’re feeling sick and you’re not coming, right? Do you need anything? I can come over and cook if you wanna?”

Kenma swallowed and felt their throat clog up with words. “Nah, it’s fine, I’ll just. Sleep it off. Sorry for not warning you,” they said, and they felt like a monster for lying about this.

“Oh, ok,” and Shouyou sounded disappointed, but he didn’t argue. “Sleep well Kenma, I’ll send you a text tomorrow.”

“Right. Sleep well Shouyou.”

They hung up with words still jammed up their throat, words they never hoped to say, and it was a long time before they could fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, comments fuel me !!! if you can't leave a comment that's ok, just leave a kudo so i know you liked it


	14. to new beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as this year comes to a close, i am posting the last chapter of the longest fanfic i have ever written. it was a labour of love (and of nanowrimo), so i hope everyone reading it feels satisfied both about the end of the story and the end of the year. happy holidays everyone !

After Kenma hung up, Shouyou remained quiet for a little while.

Something was wrong.

Not “someone was wrong,” which would have been much more confusing, but… he could feel that Kenma had something on their mind. Something that would trouble them much less if they spoke about it, but that they were not quite ready to breach with him yet. That was ok, Shouyou could wait. Contrary to what people said, he could be very patient – you didn’t learn volleyball receives in a day, and he’d had his fair share of penalties during training camps and other nice meet-ups with their rival Miyagi teams.

To be frank, something had been up for quite a while. And not only on Kenma’s side. He could be daft, oh yes he could, but he wasn’t completely blind to the way the sun shone a little brighter when Kenma was here. He truly, wholly loved Kenma, and the forcen of this feeling had almost tipped him over at first, but it had then evened out in a tranquil wave of contentment. Playing volleyball, doing fun make-up tricks, talking until the sun rose and they both fell asleep exhausted and happy, those were things he loved to do with Kenma. Those were things he would do again and again and again with them, without any hesitation. And he’d talked about it with Lev a little – the giant had told him, eyes glinting in that peculiar way feline eyes can, that Kenma had never been this invested in anything “other than Pokemon maybe, but you know, whatever it takes, right ?” Shouyou wasn’t sure he understood the metaphor but he would gladly take it in that he mattered to Kenma – because Kenma mattered to him.

What was wrong, then ? Why did Kenma sound so upset ? They’d definitely not “forgotten” to come, and they might really be sick, but… Shouyou could feel it was something else. He knew deep down that something had shifted, and he couldn’t put his finger on what.

The next day, Shouyou sent his not-quite-unusual good morning text, and didn’t get any answer. That was fine, he told himself, he could wait. It was the holidays after all, and Kenma said they were sick – they probably wouldn’t wake up for a while, Shouyou was just an early bird. At ten, still no answer, and none at two in the afternoon either. Shouyou thought of checking in in person, but then decided against it. Maybe Kenma needed time to think. Shouyou had learned that good things shouldn’t be rushed.

No answer the next day. And no answer the day after that.

Shouyou was definitely panicking this time.

Desperate times calling for desperate measures, he got his phone out and searched through his contacts, frantically swiping at the screen of his phone.

**To: bokuto-san**

_hi it’s hinata!!!!!! do you have kuroo-san’s nb??????? i’m worried abt kenma_

Seconds later, his phone beeped with an answer.

**From: bokuto-san**

_sure my man, it’s [kubro]_

**To: bokuto-san**

_waaaah thank you sm bokuto senpai you’re the best_

Bokuto answered with a series of muscle emojis, and a single yellow heart. Shouyou then found himself at a loss. He’d never been that good with words, and even less with emotions, and this was a situation where clarity of both mind and speech were actively needed.

What was he even going to say to Kuroo ? “ _hi, kenma isn’t answering my texts and it’s been two days, i’m super worried but also they said they were sick and i don’t wanna bother but i feel like there’s something else and aaaaah_.”

After several attempts at typing out a more coherent message, he settled on what he’d first typed down, and pressed the “send” button with fear’s nasty claws tearing at his stomach. Maybe something was wrong with him and Kenma didn’t dare say it. That was his worst fear – that somehow he’d upset the balance they’d found, that he messed up somehow. That he went too far, got too invested, and scared Kenma away. Maybe Lev offering his bed for Shouyou to sleep in had been the last straw, and Kenma, who secretly despised his presence, was finally faced with the fact that you don’t get rid of a soulmate in the blink of an eye, especially if they know where you live.

Kuroo’s reply to their message took hours to arrive, hours during which Shouyou ate three bowls of rice, felt awful, went on a run which calmed him down pretty effectively until he started wanting to play volleyball and remembered Kenma might actually hate playing with him and – it was useless to try and think any further.

He was typing a follow-up message to Kuroo when the answer to his text from the morning came.

**From: kuroo-san**

_You say kenma hasn’t answered you ? Weird, they texted me like, this morning I think, saying all was fine._

**To: kuroo-san**

_lfdslkjglkgh what do i DO_

**To: kuroo-san**

_do you think they hate me????????_

The answer took some time to arrive, which was explained by the fact that it was a very long paragraph.

**From: kuroo-san**

_I think they told you about my soulmate, right ? They’ve been pretty weird with the idea of finding theirs ever since they were a kid… Like, yknow, hesitating between “I never want any and human contact is a pain in the ass” to “I’ll love them with all my stupid kitten heart because no one should have to suffer a cold soulmate”. And if I remember correctly their soulmark is orange, right ? Platonic bond and prosperity, according to google, so it’s good, like, I’m sure they’ve looked at it much more closely than I did… Idk, just talk to them, yknow ? It’s better if you go directly to their dorm. I’m not sure they’ve been nourished since Lev left haha_

**To: kuroo-san**

_(*´_ _；ェ；_ _`*) thank you so much kuroo-san i will definitely talk to them_

Kuroo answered by a thumbs up emoji, and Shouyou hurried to the door, barely taking the time to put shoes on and completely forgetting the fact that he was still sweaty from his run, which ended up not mattering, as he ran with all his speed to Kenma’s dorm, eyes squinting under the sweltering summer sun.

He did not have Kenma’s building’s code, so he had to wait for someone to open the door to actually enter, and he sneezed immediately – the air conditioning was put on so strongly that you were at risk of catching a cold if you remained in the lobby for too long. Shouyou had to focus to remember where Kenma’s room was, and he walked aimlessly in the corridors until he recognised one of the houseplants and knew which door to knock on.

Hesitating between a soft knock and something more… energetic, Shouyou found himself at a loss, and decided to call Kenma instead, hoping their phone wouldn’t be on silent mode. Turned out it wasn’t – through the thin walls, Shouyou could hear an anime opening he distantly recognised echo in the room. The ringing stopped after a short while, and Kenma’s voice said through the phone, “Hng, who’s this ?”

“Kenma ? It’s me, it’s Shouyou.”

They didn’t answer, and for a moment Shouyou feared they’d hung up on him, but then in a small voice, Kenma said, “Is everything ok ?”

“What ? Oh yeah, I was just worried because you didn’t answer my texts. I’m uh. In front of your room right now ? Can you let me in ?”

“Sure,” Kenma said, and he hung up. Shouyou could hear their feet padding closer and closer to the door, until it opened.

Kenma was in their pyjamas, shorts and a T-shirt bearing multicoloured letters which spelled the words “apple pie”. Shouyou’s eyes crinkled – it must have been a present from a close friend, who knew it was Kenma’s favourite food. They also sported a bedhead comparable to Kuroo’s, and they were squinting.

“Sorry,” Shouyou said, “did I wake you from a nap ?”

“Kinda,” Kenma answered with a yawn. They concealed their mouth with the back of hand, and then made the cutest face – scrunched up nose, mouth a squiggly line, eyebrows drawn together over eyes half-closed with sleep.

 _They’re so adorable_ , Shouyou thought. _I’m glad they’re mine_.

And then he thought, _oh._

 _Oh, that’s the puzzle piece I’ve been missing_.

Kenma moved to let him in, and like they were used to doing, they both sat on the carpet, facing each other, knees brushing whenever they moved.

“I owe you an explanation,” Kenma started to say, and Shouyou cut them off with a “I think I know what’s happening. I’m sorry !”

“Wh-what ?” Kenma said, composure visibly crumbling.

Shouyou took in a deep breath. Truth be told, he did not really know what was happening, and it was probably best to let Kenma speak before he came to hasty conclusions. “Ok, go on first, Kenma.”

“I…” they stopped themself, and their eyes were downcast, so was their mouth – it looked like they were about to say something terrible, and Shouyou felt his stomach sink. “I love you.”

“Oh.” That was not what Shouyou had been expecting and their surprise must have shown, because now Kenma looked clearly distressed. “I love you too, Kenma,” he said as quickly as possible, to reassure them, but it didn’t seem to work.

“You don’t understand. I _love_ you,” Kenma spat the words as if they were acid. “And you don’t. Orange means platonic love, and I’m not sure for which of us this is supposed to be relevant, but… I certainly messed everything up, didn’t I.”

“Wah ?” was the only thing Shouyou could utter under such a short time constraint, and it only seemed to distress Kenma even further. “Kenma, I know that,” he added as quickly as he could. “I know you _love_ -love me.”

“Why didn’t you say anything ?” Kenma asked, dismayed.

“I don’t know,” and Shouyou really didn’t, “I didn’t think about it too hard. I want to be with you, that’s enough, right ? And you want to be with me.”

“I do,” Kenma said, and they seemed to be thinking about a thing to object, so Shouyou decided to end their doubts once and for all.

“I love you, Kenma. I don’t know how, I don’t know until when, and I don’t care what stupid marks say about our not stupid relationship. If you wanna see where this all goes, I’ll gladly have you in my life !”

Silence ensued, and Shouyou was starting to think that his bravado might have been a little out of place, when Kenma started to tear up.

“Oh no ! Don’t cry !” Shouyou said, dismayed.

“I can’t help it,” Kenma answered, and fat tears started rolling down their cheeks. “I’m just – I was so afraid-”

Shouyou lunged forward and enveloped them in a hug. “It’s ok !”

“It is,” they said, and it made them giggle a little.

“It is,” Shouyou agreed, and he smiled – to new beginnings. 


End file.
